^ 


:\ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

ALBERT    SHELBY   LEVI1\^0 


A  HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 


A  HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

BY 

FREDERIC    MARTYN 


>  1      t  i  1 


*•        >'•  •»  3>        ] 


NEW   YORK 
THE    MACMILLAN    COMPANY 
1911 


'K 

H 


v-^ 


CONTENTS 

CHAf.  PAGE 

I.     THE  ARREST I 

II.     THE  "tapper" IS 

III.  THE  CELLS 24 

IV.  THE   POLICE  COURT 37 

V.      ON   REMAND 48 

VI.      MEDICAL   INSPECTION 57 

VII.      FIRST   FRIENDS 64 

VIII.      IDENTIFICATION 73 

IX.      BLACK  MARIA   AGAIN 76 

X.      BOW  STREET 83 

I/;)           XL     REMAND   DIET 89 

XH.  EN   ROUTE   FOR  THE  OLD  BAILEY          -          •          •  95 

Xin.      THE  OLD   BAILEY  CELLS IO3 

XIV.     AN   UNEXPECTED  CHARGE I07 

XV.     MV  PREDECESSORS IH 

XVI.      FURTHER   POSTPONEMENT 1 17 

XVII.      SENTENCED I20 

XVIII.      FELLOW   PHILOSOPHER I27 

XIX.      A   PRISONER   IN    EARNEST T33 

XX.  THE   OPTIMIST   AND   THE   P.URr.LAR      .          .          -139 

XXI.      EXERCISE .14^^ 


21595 


vi  A    HOLIDAY    IN    GAOL 

CHAP.  PACK 

XXII.  THE  WARDER 1 53 

XXIII.  THE  "star"  class 1 56 

XXIV.  DINNER 161 

XXV.  SOLACE 166 

XXVI.  GOOD-NIGHT 168 

XXVII.  A  TEMPTATION 171 

XXVIII.  COMPLAINTS 175 

XXIX.  SUNDAY 185 

XXX.  HARD   LABOUR I90 

XXXI.  "THE  ferret" 195 

XXXII.  HARD   IDLENESS 200 

XXXIII.  AN  ATTEMPTED   ESCAPE 205 

XXXIV.  THE   SUSPECTS 208 

XXXV.  "THE  TALKING   FISH" 213 

XXXVI.  LIBRARIAN 219 

XXXVIl.  "SCHOLARS" 230 

XXXVIII.  SEARCHES 235 

XXXIX.  THE  COMPLETE    BURGLAR  .  .  .  .244 

XL.  THE  SUICIDE 246 

XLI.  THE  DOCTOR 250 

XLII.  THE  CANTANKEROUS 259 

XLIII.  CHRISTMAS   DAY 262 

XLIV.  WEARING  THE   END 270 

XLV.  RELEASE 276 


A  HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 


A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

CHAPTER  I 
THE   ARREST 

I  HAVE  recently  returned  to  work  from  the 
holiday  of  a  lifetime,  feeling  as  if  I  am 
wound  up  to  go  another  fifty  years  on  top  of  the 
half-century  I  already  have  to  own  to,  and  with 
a  capacity  for  enjoyment  that  I  don't  remember 
to  have  possessed  in  my  salad  days.  I  have 
been  taking  the  finest  rest  cure  that  the  whole 
world  affords :  I  have  been  doing  eighteen 
months'  hard  labour  in  an  English  prison. 

No,  I  am  not  trying  to  pull  the  leg  of  a 
credulous  public;  I  am  simply  endeavouring  to 
put  into  readable  shape  my  experiences  of  police, 
prisons,  and  prisoners  arising  out  of  my  first 
and  only  conflict  with  the  criminal  law  of  this  or 
any  other  country. 

I  am  afraid  that  my  experiences  will  be  found 
to  differ  greatly  from  any  that  have  yet  appeared 


2  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

either  in  the  newspapers  or  in  book  form.  If 
they  were  not  altogether  different  there  would 
be  no  excuse  for  publishing  them,  inasmuch  as 
the  public  must  be  quite  "  fed  up  "  with  the 
whining  accounts  of  prison  life  that  have  been 
appearing  more  or  less  continuously  in  the 
penny  weeklies  for  the  past  few  years. 

These  woeful  wails  without  exception  re- 
present prison  life  as  a  very  good  imitation  of 
purgatory,  but  I  say  boldly  that  it  is  nothing  of 
the  sort,  and  that,  putting  deprivation  of  liberty 
out  of  consideration,  nine  men  out  of  every  ten 
who  go  to  prison  are  better  off  there  than  they 
would  be  outside. 

It  may  be  put  up  against  me  that  I  was 
hardly  in  a  position  to  judge  of  the  rigour  of  the 
English  penal  system,  seeing  that  I  was  a  mere 
Hard  Labour  prisoner  in  a  local  prison  while 
the  accounts  I  have  referred  to  were  written  by 
men  who  have  undergone  sentences  of  penal 
servitude.  All  I  can  say  to  this  is  that  every 
old  convict  that  I  met  in  prison — and  I  met  a 
good  few,  and  asked  every  one  of  them  the 
same  question — declared  with  emphasis  that 
hard  labour  isn't  "in  it"  with  penal  servitude 
for  food,  comfort,  and  flight  of  time ;  and  that 
three  years'  penal  servitude  was  in  every  way 


THE  ARREST  3 

a  more  desirable  sentence  than  two  years'  hard 
labour. 

It  may  be  thought,  too,  that  my  previous 
circumstances  were  such  as  to  make  the  prison 
food  and  the  prison  bed  a  change  for  the  better. 
This  would  be  an  extremely  erroneous  im- 
pression to  get  hold  of,  inasmuch  as  I  went  to 
prison  straight  from  the  smoking  of  shilling 
cigars  and  the  eating  of  seven-and-sixpenny 
dinners,  and  living  the  life  generally  of  a  man 
who  considers  that  the  best  of  everything  is  good 
enough  for  him. 

It  is  well  known  that  it  is  quite  possible  for 
two  eye-witnesses  of  an  occurrence  to  give,  in 
perfect  sincerity  and  good  faith,  diametrically 
opposite  accounts  of  what  happened.  What  a 
man  sees  depends  a  great  deal  upon  the  point  of 
view  from  which  he  looks  at  it,  and  this  may  be 
the  explanation  of  the  discrepancies  between  my 
experience  and  those  of  others.  I  am  not 
accusing  writers  of  previous  accounts  of  life  in 
prison  of  lying  or  misrepresentation  ;  it  may  well 
be  that  their  sufferings  were  as  terrible  as  they 
make  them  out  to  be,  and  that  I  didn't  suffer 
because  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  be  a  sort  of 
rhinoceros-hided  animal  who  can't  even  be 
tickled   with   anything  less   formidable  than    a 


4  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

particularly  sharp  and  well-built  pitchfork.  I 
don't  think  myself  that  I  am  more  thick-skinned 
than  the  ordinary  man,  but  I  must  confess  that  I 
have  a  tendency  to  hunt  for  the  silver  lining  to 
a  cloud  without  worrying  myself  to  death  about 
the  blackness  of  the  cloud  itself 

Whatever  it  was  that  caused  me  to  look  on 
my  prison  experiences  in  the  way  I  did,  it  is  a 
fact  that  I  regard  my  eighteen  months'  enforced 
residence  in  gaol  as  one  of  the  most  comfortable 
incidents  in  a  somewhat  varied  life ;  as  a  real 
holiday,  in  fact.  I  won't  go  so  far  as  to  say  that 
I  was  sorry  when  the  time  came  for  me  to  return 
to  the  outside  world  again — for  even  holidays 
pall,  and  one  longs  for  change  from  the 
pleasantest  times — but  I  can  honestly  assert 
that  I  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  experience  and  am 
glad  that  it  came  my  way. 

I  didn't  enjoy  the  beginning  of  it,  not  a  little 
bit.  It  was  a  real "  come  down  "  for  me  to  go  to 
gaol,  and  in  the  early  stages  I  really  felt  as  if  the 
sun  had  gone  bang  out  of  my  sky  and  would 
never  re-appear;  but  this  pessimistic  feeling 
soon  wore  off,  and  I  began  to  look  around  me 
and  appreciate  the  fact  that  many  worse  things 
might  have  happened  to  me. 

My  arrest    came   upon    me    as    a  crushing 


THE  ARREST  5 

surprise,  for  I  was  not  conscious  of  having  done 
anything  that  was  anywhere  near  the  borders  of 
crime  ;  and  the  surprise  at  the  arrest  itself  was 
only  one  degree  less  intense  than  the  surprise 
at  the  manner  of  it.  The  police  may  behave 
roughly  when  arresting  some  criminals,  but 
they  were  very  gentle  with  me,  and  arrested  me 
as  politely  and  as  quietly  as  if  they  were  merely 
inviting  me  to  dinner. 

As  I  came  out  of  the  post-office  of  the  sea- 
side town  where  I  was  staying,  two  well- 
dressed  men  who  were  standing  on  the  other 
side  of  the  street  crossed  over  and  met  me  in 
the  centre  of  the  carriage-way.  One  of  them 
raised  his  hat  and  mentioned  my  name  inter- 
rogatively. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

Then  the  second  man  took  up  position  at  my 
side  and  the  first  one  said  deprecatingly — 

"  I'm  sorry  to  say,  sir,  that  I  have  a  warrant 
for  your  arrest.  Would  you  like  to  go  in  any- 
where to  talk  the  matter  over  ?  " 

"  Warrant  for  my  arrest ! "  I  ejaculated. 
"What  on  earth  for?" 

The  detective  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
smilingly  rejoined — 

"  You  don't  want  me  to  show  it  here  do  you? 


6  A  HOLIDAY   IN  GAOL 

Let  us  go  in  there;"  and  he  nodded  in  the 
direction  of  a  neighbouring  hotel. 

We  made  our  way  to  the  smoke-room,  and 
seeing  that  the  drinks  "  were  up  against  me,"  as 
they  say  in  America,  I  asked  them  what  they 
would  have. 

"Scotch  and  soda?"  said  the  first  man, 
interrogatively,  to  his  colleague. 

The  second  man  nodded  and  I  ordered. 

When  the  waiter  had  gone  for  the  drinks,  the 
first  man  suggested  that  I  might  like  to  smoke, 
adding  apologetically — 

"They  won't  let  you  smoke  in  there,  you 
know." 

I  produced  my  cigar-case  and  handed  it  round. 

The  detective  who  had  the  speaking  part 
lighted  his  at  once  without  comment,  but  the 
other  one  put  the  cigar  up  to  his  ear,  pinched  it 
lovingly  with  his  fingers,  and  then,  with  some- 
thing like  a  sigh,  wrapped  it  in  an  old  letter  and 
carefully  pinned  it  in  the  crown  of  his  hat. 

"  May  as  well  smoke  it,"  said  the  first  detec- 
tive ;  "we  needn't  go  in  for  a  good  while  yet." 

The  silent  one  shook  his  head. 

"It's  a  sin  to  smoke  a  cigar  like  that  on  a 
week-day,"  he  said ;  "  I'll  save  it  till  Sunday 
afternoon," 


THE  ARREST  7 

I  hastened  to  give  him  another  cigar  for 
present  smokirrg,  and  detective  number  one 
remarked  that  good  cigars  didn't  often  get  in  the 
way  of  provincial  detectives,  and  that  number 
two  ought  to  have  joined  the  London  force. 

I  gathered  from  this,  rightly  as  it  turned  out, 
that  number  one  was  the  man  who  had  my  case 
in  hand,  and  that  number  two  was  merely  a  local 
man  who  had  been  called  in  to  help. 

We  smoked,  and  talked  on  indifferent  subjects, 
until  we  got  the  room  to  ourselves,  and  then  I 
suggested  that  I  was  ready  to  hear  particulars. 
1  didn't  think  for  a  moment  that  1  was  in  any 
danger  of  imprisonment,  but  I  didn't  feel  com- 
fortable nevertheless,  for  I  knew  that  the  scandal 
and  exposure  incidental  to  even  an  unfounded 
charge  would  inevitably  ruin  my  already  toppling 
business. 

"  Oh  !  Ah !  Yes  ! "  ejaculated  detective 
number  one,  as  if  it  was  some  trivial  matter  that 
had  escaped  his  memory.  "You  are  charged 
with  obtaining  money  by  false  pretences  from  a 
man  named  Smith." 

The  name  wasn't  Smith  ;  all  the  names  in  this 
narrative  will  be  fictitious,  though  the  facts  may 
be  depended  upon. 

Now   this   man   Smith   had    put   a    hundred 


8  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

pounds  into  my  business  as  a  condition  of  obtain- 
ing employment,  and,  beyond  a  little  of  what  the 
drapers  call  "window-dressing,"  I  had  made  no 
misrepresentations  to  him  whatever;  in  fact,  I 
had  even  told  him  that  I  was  an  undischarged 
bankrupt.  He  had  worked  with  me  for  several 
months  without  expressing  any  dissatisfaction, 
although  he  was  in  a  position  to  know  all  the  ins 
and  outs  of  the  concern.  Then  came  the  defection 
of  a  firm  that  had  been  associated  with  me,  and 
Smith,  naturally  enough,  alarmed  about  his 
money,  had  given  me  notice.  Under  the  terms 
of  his  agreement  with  me  I  should  have  refunded 
his  money  ;  but  when  the  time  came  I  was  unable 
to  do  this,  though  I  was  on  the  point  of  making 
arrangements  that  would  put  me  in  possession 
not  only  of  money  to  pay  him  but  of  sufficient 
capital  to  enable  me  to  carry  on  the  business 
without  monetary  anxiety. 

These  arrangements  hung  fire  for  a  time, 
owing  to  my  prospective  financiers  wanting  a 
bigger  slice  of  the  pie  than  I  was  inclined  to  give 
them  ;  and  Smith,  very  unwisely  I  think,  swore 
an  information  against  me  for  obtaining  his 
money  by  false  pretences — no  doubt  thinking 
that  this  was  the  most  effective  way  of  putting 
the  screw  on  me. 


THE  ARREST  9 

I  knew  nothing  of  this  until  after  my  arrest, 
for  he  had  never  threatened  me  with  criminal 
proceedings ;  and,  by  a  curious  coincidence, 
when  I  was  arrested  coming  from  the  post-office, 
I  had  been  there  to  send  a  wire  to  Smith  asking 
him  to  meet  me  in  town  so  that  I  might  pay 
him — the  money  to  do  this  having  been  lent  to 
me  that  very  morning  by  a  friend,  and  I  actually 
had  it  in  my  pocket  when  I  was  arrested. 

I  thought,  in  my  innocence,  that  if  the  detec- 
tive accompanied  me  to  town  and  saw  me  pay 
the  money  over  it  would  put  an  end  to  the  pro- 
ceedings. I  mentioned  this  to  him,  but  he  shook 
his  head  discouragingly. 

"  It's  out  of  Smith's  hands  now,"  he  said,  "  and 
he  wouldn't  be  able  to  take  the  money  if  you 
offered  it  to  him.  Any  money  in  your  possession 
that  we  can  fasten  on  will  be  kept  by  the  police, 
and  if  you  are  convicted  of  obtaining  money  by 
false  pretences  from  Smith,  or  anybody  else,  the 
court  will  probably  order  your  money  to  be 
handed  over  to  them.  But  we'd  better  be  getting 
towards  the  station,  unless  you'd  like  another 
drink  first." 

"There  isn't  a  train  for  an  hour  yet,"  I 
replied. 

"  I  meant  the  police-station,"  he  said,  smiling 


10  A   HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

at  my  mistake.  "  I've  got  to  take  you  there,  you 
see,  as  they  must  enter  you  up  in  their  books 
on  account  of  your  having  been  arrested  on  their 
ground.  I  shall  have  to  leave  you  there  for  a 
bit,  too,  as  we  can't  go  up  to  town  until  the 
afternoon." 

"In  that  case  we'll  have  another  drink,"  I 
said.  "  I  am  just  as  well  here  as  in  the  police- 
station,  I  expect." 

Having  had  the  glasses  replenished,  I  asked  if 
they  couldn't  accompany  me  to  my  lodgings  so 
that  I  might  put  my  things  together  and  settle 
with  my  landlady. 

"Impossible,"  said  number  one  decidedly. 
"  I'm  chancing  it  enough  as  it  is,  without  going 
any  further.  I  shall  have  to  go  to  search 
your  lodgings  as  soon  as  I've  put  you  inside, 
and  I'll  see  that  your  things  are  packed  up  all 
right." 

"And  I'll  settle  with  your  landlady  if  you'll 
give  me  the  coin,"  said  number  two,  chiming  in. 
"She  happens  to  be  my  sister-in-law,  and  I 
should  like  to  see  her  paid." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  said  I,  as  I  took  a 
five-pound  note  from  my  pocket. 

I  was  passing  the  note  over  the  table  to 
the    outstretched  hand  of  detective  number  two 


THE  ARREST  ii 

when    detective    number    one    interposed    his 
arm. 

"  I'm  afraid  that  I  cannot  allow  that,"  he  said. 
"You  see,  when  a  man  is  charged  with  fraud 
nowadays,  it  is  assumed  that  the  money  in  his 
possession  is  part  of  what  he  has  got  on  the  cross, 
and  we  have  to  stick  to  it  until  the  case  is 
decided.  It  would  be  as  much  as  my  job  is 
worth  to  let  3-ou  make  away  with  any  money  you 
may  happen  to  have  on  you." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  number  two  resignedly. 
"  It's  for  you  to  say,  and  if  you  can't  see  your 
way  to  letting  my  sister-in-law  have  her  money, 
she  must  go  without  it,  that's  all." 

"Awfully  sorry,  old  man,"  said  number  one; 
"  but  duty's  duty,  j^ou  know." 

A  minute  or  two  afterwards  number  one  said 
that  he  must  go  outside,  and  asked  me  to 
move  over  to  the  side  of  number  two.  "  I'll 
leave  him  with  you  for  a  minute  or  two,"  said  he, 
looking  meaningly  at  number  two. 

"Give  me   that   money,  quick,"  said  number 
two  as    soon  as   the   door    had  closed   on   his 
colleague.     "  If  he  don't  know  anything  about  it 
he  can't  get  into  any  row,  can  he  ?  " 
I  handed  over  the  five-pound  note. 

"  Got   any    more   money  you  want   to  send 


12  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

anywhere?"  whispered  the  detective.  "I'll  see 
it  gets  there  all  right  if  you  like  to  hand  it 
over." 

Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  would  like  my 
friend  to  have  his  hundred  pounds  back,  and 
I  asked  the  detective  if  he  would  take  it,  as 
my  friend  lived  in  the  town  and  was  well 
known. 

He  consented  without  any  hesitation  what- 
ever, and  I  gave  him  the  envelope  containing  the 
notes,  just  as  I  had  received  it  from  my  friend 
that  morning. 

No  doubt  I  ought  to  have  tipped  the  detective 
handsomely  for  his  complaisance,  but  I  wasn't  so 
well  acquainted  then  with  the  ways  of  detectives 
as  I  am  now,  and  I  was  afraid  to  offer  him  any- 
thing. I  expect  he  was  greatly  disappointed  at 
my  want  of  appreciation  of  the  service  he  was 
rendering  me.  He  was  well  rewarded,  however, 
by  my  friend,  who  was  glad  enough  to  get  his 
hundred  pounds  back  under  the  circumstances. 

When  number  one  came  back,  he  pulled  a 
pair  of  very  bright  handcuffs  out  of  his  pocket 
and,  jingling  them  jocosely  in  his  hand,  said — 

"  Now  then,  are  you  coming  quietly,  or  shall  I 
have  to  put  these  on  ?  " 

Any    one   seeing  the    three    of   us  walking 


THE  ARREST  13 

abreast  down  the  High  Street  would  never  have 
guessed  that  I  was  a  prisoner  on  a  serious 
charge.  The  London  detective  was  in  high 
spirits,  and  laughed  and  chatted  like  a  tripper, 
while  the  local  man  was  in  a  sportive  mood  also, 
and  introduced  me  to  a  uniformed  sergeant  as 
"an  officer  from  London  "who  had  come  down 
to  arrest  the  other  detective.  The  sergeant  was 
of  a  sympathetic  nature,  and  feelingly  told  the 
London  man  to  cheer  up  as  imprisonment  wasn't 
half  bad  when  one  got  used  to  it. 

I  didn't  do  much  of  the  laughing  and  joking 
myself;  but  I  did  not  realize,  all  the  same,  that 
I  was  in  the  serious  position  I  afterwards  found 
myself  in.  Surely,  I  thought,  there  could  not  be 
anything  serious  in  a  charge  that  the  detectives 
treated  with  such  levity.  I  discovered  after- 
wards that  levity  in  a  detective  is  not  a  good 
sign  for  the  prisoner. 

When  we  got  to  the  police-station  the 
detectives  put  on  their  duty  expressions,  and  I 
was  relegated  to  my  proper  place  as  prisoner. 

Particulars  of  my  name,  age,  physical  descrip- 
tion, and  so  forth  were  entered  in  a  book,  and 
then  I  was  asked  if  I  had  a  knife  or  matches  in 
my  pockets.  Having  delivered  up  my  knife  and 
match-box,  I  was  handed  over  to  the  gaoler  to  be 


14  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

"put  back,"  which  is  the  police  synonym  -for 
being  placed  in  a  cell. 

"There,"  said  the  gaoler  affably,  as  he  ushered 
me  into  a  large  cell,  "  there's  room  enough  for 
you  to  go  for  a  walk  in  there." 


CHAPTER  II 
THE   "  TAPPER" 

I  WAS  only  in  that  cell  for  something  like 
a  couple  of  hours,  while  the  detectives  went 
to  my  lodgings  to  turn  over  my  belongings  and 
have  a  few  drinks  together,  but  by  the  time  they 
came  to  let  me  out  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  there 
a  week  or  two.  It  was  the  weariest  two  hours 
I  ever  passed.  People  talk  about  time  hanging 
heavily  on  their  hands,  but  I  don't  think  that  any 
man  can  appreciate  how  leaden  the  wings  of  time 
can  be  until  he  finds  himself  in  a  police-cell  with 
no  definite  idea  as  to  how  long  he  has  got  to  stay 
there.  I  had  to  pass  many  whole  days  in  my 
cell  with  nothing  to  occupy  my  hands  or  my 
mind,  many  and  many  of  them,  before  I  was 
through  with  my  "dose,"  but  no  whole  day  of 
them  all  seemed  half  so  long  as  that  first  two 
hours  I  ever  spent  in  solitary  confinement. 

At  last  the  key  turned  in  the  lock,  and  the 
gaoler  bade  me  "  Come  on." 

15 


i6  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

I  followed  him  into  the  charge-room,  where 
I  found  the  detectives  awaiting  me. 

Without  uttering  a  word,  detective  number 
one  handed  me  back  my  knife  and  matchbox,  and 
motioned  to  me  to  follow  him  into  the  street. 
As  I  moved  on,  detective  number  two  closed  on 
me  behind,  as  if  he  were  afraid  that  I  might  stop 
in  the  police-station  and  let  the  other  detective 
find  himself  in  the  street  without  me. 

I  had  eaten  but  very  little  breakfast  that 
morning,  and  as  it  was  long  past  lunch-time  I 
felt  very  hungry.  I  accordingly  asked  if  I  could 
be  allowed  to  have  something  to  eat. 

"No  time  to  have  more  than  a  sandwich 
now,"  said  detective  number  one;  "the  train 
leaves  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  You  should  have 
had  your  lunch  sent  into  the  station  while  you 
were  waiting  for  us.  They  would  have  sent 
out  and  got  you  anything  you  liked  to  order— 
if  you  had  money  to  pay  for  it." 

I  felt  as  I  had  missed  something.  How  nicely 
I  could  have  filled  in  that  terribly  wearisome 
two  hours  in  anticipating  and  then  consuming 
a  grilled  sole,  a  spatchcocked  pigeon,  and  a  half 
bottle  of  good  claret. 

We  had  a  few  minutes  to  wait  when  we  got 
to  the  railway  station,  and  detective  number  two 


THE   "TAPPER"  \^ 

suggested  that  I  might  get  a  sandwich  in  the 
refreshment  room  ;  but  number  one  advised  me 
not  to  trouble  about  anything  more  solid  than 
a  drink,  as  he  would  give  me  an  opportunity  of 
having  a  "  good  feed  "  in  town  before  he  "  took 
me  in,"  as  he  put  it. 

"Got  a  season  ticket?"  asked  number  one. 

I  replied  to  the  effect  that  I  had  a  monthly 
ticket. 

"That's  a  fare  saved  anyway,"  said  the 
detective.  "Come  on,  I'll  stand  3'ou  a  drink 
if  you  like." 

We  had  the  drinks,  but  the  detective  was  so 
absorbed  in  conversation  with  his  colleague 
when  the  time  came  for  paying  that  I  did  the 
settling  myself. 

Number  one  noticed  what  I  had  done  as  soon 
as  the  act  of  paying  was  completed,  and,  pro- 
testing that  I  ought  not  to  have  done  it, 
proceeded  to  order  cigars. 

I  objected  to  this,  as  I  had  several  cigars  still 
in  my  case,  so  he  put  his  money  back  into  his 
pocket  saying,  with  a  trace  of  severity  in  his 
tone,  that  when  he  asked  any  one  to  have  a  drink 
he  expected  to  be  allowed  to  pay  for  it. 

I  mildly  suggested  that  if  he  felt  hurt  at  my 
paying  for  the  drinks  we  had  better  have  another 


i8  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

at  his  expense,  but  he  said  that  there  wasn't 
time,  and  led  the  way  to  the  platform. 

He  ushered  me  into  an  empty  third-class 
carriage,  first  satisfying  himself  that  the  door  on 
the  other  side  was  locked;  and  after  he  had  got 
in  himself,  detective  number  two  stood  at  the 
door  until  the  train  was  on  the  point  of  starting, 
when  he  got  in  also,  saying  that  he  didn't  like 
the  idea  of  parting  from  us,  and  would  come 
along,  as  far  as  the  first  stop. 

When  the  train  was  well  out  of  the  station, 
detective  number  one  produced  an  "  Engaged  " 
slip  and  stuck  it  on  one  of  the  windows  on  the 
platform  side. 

I  asked  him  if  it  was  usual  to  engage  a  whole 
compartment  when  he  had  a  prisoner  in  charge ; 
but  the  only  reply  I  got  was  a  wink,  which  I 
took  as  an  intimation  that  he  had  engaged  the 
compartment  quite  unofficially. 

At  the  first  stop  the  local  detective  got  out 
after  cordially  shaking  hands  with  me  as  well  as 
with  his  colleague.  When  he  was  getting  up 
to  go  out,  something  seemed  to  strike  him,  and, 
putting  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  he  pulled  out 
a  piece  of  paper  which  he  put  before  my  eyes. 

"  Do  you  know  that  chap?"  he  asked. 

1  looked  at  the  piece  of  paper  and  saw  that 


THE   "TAPPER"  19 

it  was  a  note  from  my  friend  who  had  lent  me 
the  ;^ioo  saying  that  he  had  duly  received  it, 

"What's  that?"  asked  the  London  detective. 

"Only  a  note  written  to  me  by  some  one 
I  thought  he  knew,"  replied  the  local  man  as  he 
put  the  paper  in  his  pocket  again. 

At  the  moment  I  thought  this  was  a  bit  of 
make-believe  and  that  the  London  man  knew 
that  I  had  passed  the  money  to  his  colleague, 
but  I  afterwards  discovered  that  the  London 
man's  complaisance  only  extended  to  the  money 
for  my  landlady,  and  that  the  local  detective  had 
returned  the  hundred  pounds  "on  his  own." 

"  How  much  money  have  you  got  on  you  ?  " 
asked  the  detective  suddenly,  after  we  had  been 
smoking  in  silence  for  some  time. 

"About  fifteen  or  sixteen  pounds,"  I  replied. 

"That's  a  good  bit  of  money  to  lose,"  he 
replied  musingl}'. 

"  But  I  don't  propose  to  lose  it,"  I  rejoined. 

"  Can't  help  yourself.  As  soon  as  you  get  to 
Bow  Street  they'll  take  it  off  you,  and  that's  the 
last  you'll  see  of  it.  As  I  told  you  before,  they'll 
hand  it  over  to  this  chap  Smith  when  you  are 
convicted." 

"  But  I'm  not  convicted  yet,  and  don't 
think   that    there   is    any   chance   of  my   being 


20  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

convicted.  As  far  as  I  know—and  I  ought  to  be 
the  one  to  know  if  anybody  does — I've  not  done 
anything  against  the  law  at  all.  I  certainly  am 
not  conscious  of  having  told  Mr.  Smith  anything 
that  could  be  twisted  into  a  false  pretence  by 
even  an  Old  Bailey  lawyer." 

"You  wait,"  said  he  with  a  chuckle.  "You 
don't  know  as  much  about  Old  Bailey  barristers 
as  I  do.  When  you  hear  the  counsel  for  the 
prosecution  reckoning  you  up,  you  will  be 
paralyzed  with  astonishment  that  you  have  not 
done  time  long  ago." 

"  Well  my  conscience  is  pretty  clear,"  I 
retorted,  "  if  I  have  ever  robbed  anybody,  it  must 
have  been  in  my  sleep ;  and,  as  far  as  this  man 
Smith's  money  is  concerned,  he  stood  no  more 
chance  of  losing  it  than  if  it  had  been  safely 
stowed  away  in  the  Bank  of  England.  I  don't 
think  for  a  minute  that  this  case  will  ever 
get  as  far  as  the  Old  Bailey :  I  expect  that 
to-morrow's  hearing  before  the  magistrate  will 
finish  it." 

"  1  hope  so,"  said  the  detective  sceptically. 
"  I'll  tell  the  magistrate  that  you  said  what  you 
have  just  said  when  I  arrested  you  if  you  like : 
it  would  look  well  in  the  papers." 

I  replied  to  the  effect  that  I  should  be  much 


THE  "TAPPER"  21 

obliged  to  him  if  he  would ;  but  he  changed  his 
mind  before  the  hearing,  and  what  he  did  say 
didn't  look  at  all  well  in  the  papers  and  did  me  a 
great  deal  of  harm,  though  he  afterwards  denied 
that  he  had  said  it. 

"  I  try  to  make  it  as  easy  as  I  can  for  anybody 
that  passes  through  my  hands,"  he  continued, 
"and  I  have  had  a  good  many  presents  from 
gentlemen  situated  like  yourself.  If  it  wasn't  for 
little  bits  of  sugar  like  that,  our  job  wouldn't  be 
worth  picking  up." 

This  was  little  short  of  a  direct  request  to 
hand  over  some  of  the  money  I  had  about  me ; 
but  I  didn't  see  why  I  should  give  it  to  him.  I 
learned  afterwards  that  he  would  not  have 
resented  the  gift  of  a  sovereign — at.least,  I  met  a 
man  who  said  that  he  had  given  him  one,  which 
had  been  received  gratefully— and  if  I  had  known 
this  at  the  time,  I  would  cheerfully  have  parted 
with  so  much ;  but  I  was  under  the  impression 
that  anything  less  than  a  ten-pound  note  would 
have  been  regarded  as  an  insult,  and  I  didn't  think 
that  it  was  in  his  power  to  do  me  ten  pounds' 
worth  of  good.  I  was  mistaken:  I  am  convinced 
now  that  if  I  had  satisfied  his  longing  to  possess 
some  of  my  money,  it  would  have  done  me  a 
great  deal  of  good;  and  if  I  had  gone  to  the 


22  A  HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

length  of  tipping  him  ten  pounds,  I  should  not 
have  been  convicted  at  all. 

I  have  set  down  my  conversation  with  this 
detective  word  for  word  as  I  remember  it,  and 
leave  it  to  the  reader  to  judge  whether  or  not  he 
was  asking  me  for  money.  I  did  not  give  him 
any  money,  it  is  true,  and  I  am  not  therefore 
in  a  position  to  state  positively  of  my  own 
knowledge  that  London  detectives  accept  money 
presents  from  prisoners.  I  heard  a  great  deal 
on  the  subject,  however,  before  I  was  through 
my  "little  bit,"  and  I  am  afraid  that  there  is  no 
room  for  doubt  that  the  general  run  of  detectives 
make  a  practice  of  trying  to  "  tap  "  a  prisoner 
who  they  are  satisfied  has  money  about  him. 

I  quite  believe,  too,  that  it  is  to  a  prisoner's 
advantage  to  take  any  opportunity  of  this  sort 
to  raise  a  kindly  feeling  towards  him  in  the 
detective's  heart,  inasmuch  as  in  the  course  of 
the  investigations  incidental  to  getting  up  a  case 
against  a  prisoner,  as  it  proceeds  from  remand  to 
remand,  the  detective  sergeant  employed  in  the 
case,  who  is  generally  the  same  who  makes  the 
arrest,  finds  many  opportunities  for  making  things 
easier  for  the  prisoner,  or  the  reverse,  that  he 
may  make  use  of  without  laying  himself  open  to 
any  suspicion  of  dereliction  of  duty. 


THE   "TAPPER"  23 

My  detective  kept  harping  on  the  same  string 
all  the  way  to  London,  but  all  he  got  out  of 
me  was  my  cigar-case,  which  he  admired  so 
persistently  that  I  gave  it  to  him  as  a  souvenir. 

When  we  got  to  London,  I  reminded  him  of 
his  promise  to  let  me  have  a  good  meal  before 
he  "took  me  in";  but  his  friendly  manner  had 
dried  up,  and  he  replied,  curtly,  to  the  effect 
that  there  wasn't  time  for  me  to  have  anything 
then,  but  that  I  would  be  allowed  to  have  some- 
thing sent  in  from  outside  as  soon  as  I  got  to 
Bow  Street. 

I  remonstrated  ;  but  he  had  evidently  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  was  no  profit  to  be  got 
out  of  me,  and  that  he  would  only  be  wasting 
time  if  he  hung  about  with  me,  so  his  only 
reply  to  my  reminder  of  his  promise  was  to  call 
a  hansom  and  give  the  driver  the  direction : 
"  Bow  Street  Police  Station." 


w 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   CELLS 

HAT  did  you  bring  him  here  for?" 
asked  the  inspector  on  duty  surlily,  as 
soon  as  I  was  introduced  to  him.  "  You  know 
as  well  as  I  do  that  he  belongs  to  Grays  Inn 
Road.  Don't  you  think  that  I've  got  enough  to 
do  without  shoving  other  people's  work  on  to 
me?" 

The  detective  sergeant  deprecatingly  main- 
tained that  he  had  brought  me  to  the  right  shop, 
and  leaned  over  the  inspector's  desk  to  give  his 
reasons  for  thinking  so.  As  we  three  were  the 
only  persons  in  the  charge-room  and  the  door 
was  wide  open,  there  was  a  splendid  opening  for 
me  to  make  a  bolt  for  liberty  if  I  had  been 
desirous  of  taking  advantage  of  it,  and  I  specu- 
lated, while  they  were  arguing,  as  to  the  odds 
against  their  losing  a  resourceful  professional 
criminal  under  such  circumstances. 

"  Get  in  there,"  snapped  the  inspector,  motion- 
ing me  to  a  little  iron-railed  enclosure. 

24 


THE  CELLS  25 

When  I  had  taken  up  position  there,  he  read 
the  warrant  to  me,  took  a  list  of  the  contents  of 
my  pockets,  with  the  exception  of  a  sixpenny 
novel  which  he  allowed  me  to  keep,  and  made 
them  up  into  a  parcel.  Then  he  entered  in  a 
book  minute  particulars  of  my  age,  personal 
appearance,  and  clothing.  Having  done  this,  he 
rang  a  bell  and  the  gaoler  entered. 

The  inspector  jerked  his  thumb  in  my  direc- 
tion, and  the  gaoler  looked  at  me  and  jerked  his 
thumb  in  the  direction  of  the  door  leading  to  the 
cells.  Not  a  word  was  spoken.  The  detective- 
sergeant  was  looking  straight  through  me,  as  if 
he  had  never  seen  me  before,  and  was  not  at  all 
interested  in  the  sight  of  me  now. 

I  went  through  the  door  with  the  gaoler  close 
on  my  heels,  and  presently  found  myself  in  a  long 
passage  with  cells  all  along  one  side  of  it,  the 
other  side  being  the  wall  that  looked  on  to  the 
yard. 

The  gaoler  unlocked  one  of  these  cells  and 
motioned  me  to  enter. 

"  Make  yourself  at  home,"  said  he,  when  I  got 
inside ;  "  I'll  bring  you  a  rug  presentl3^  I  won't 
put  anyone  else  in  with  you  if  I  can  help  it." 

The  "apartment "  I  had  been  invited  to  make 
myself  at  home  in  was  about  the  size  of  a  billiard 


26  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

table,  that  is  to  say,  about  twelve  feet  by  six. 
Along  one  side  of  it  ran  a  bench  about  eighteen 
inches  wide,  with  an  uncovered  convenience  at 
one  end.  There  was  no  window,  the  cell  being 
lighted  in  the  daytime  by  deadlights  fixed  in  the 
roof  and  by  what  light  could  come  through  the 
open  ironwork  of  the  door.  There  was  an 
aperture  in  the  upper  part  of  the  door  about 
nine  inches  long  by  four  wide,  which  was  used 
for  the  purpose  of  passing  anything  in  to  the 
prisoner  or  talking  to  him  when  occasion  arose. 

I  was  very  hungry,  and  when  the  gaoler 
brought  me  a  coloured  rug  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards I  told  him  what  the  detective  had  said  as 
to  my  being  able  to  get  some  dinner,  and  asked 
him  if  he  could  manage  it  for  me. 

"  You  can  have  anything  you  like  so  long  as 
you  have  the  money  to  pay  for  it,"  he  said ;  "  but 
perhaps  you  had  better  let  me  get  what  I  can,  as 
it  may  not  be  possible  to  get  any  fanc}^  grub  at 
this  time  of  night." 

I  gratefully  assented,  but  asked  him  to  get  me 
some  tea  or  coffee  if  I  had  to  have  a  scratch  feed 
instead  of  a  regular  dinner  with  wine. 

"  All  right ;  I'll  do  what  I  can,"  he  replied. 
"  Where's  the  money  ?  " 

"  The  inspector  has  got  my  money,"  I  said. 


THE  CELLS  27 

He  looked  at  me  pityingly  and  shook  his 
head. 

"  I'm  afraid  that  you  won't  get  any  square 
meal  to-night,"  he  said  ;  "but  I'll  go  and  see  the 
inspector  all  the  same  and  see  what  he  says." 

He  went  away,  and  in  a  short  time  afterwards 
the  face  of  the  inspector  appeared  at  the  booby- 
hutch. 

"What's  this  about  your  wanting  a  swell 
dinner?"  he  asked.  "Didn't  you  get  anything 
before  you  came  in  ?  " 

I  told  him  of  the  detective's  promise  that  I 
would  be  allowed  to  have  dinner  sent  in,  and  that 
I  had  had  nothing  since  a  very  light  breakfast. 

"  Well,  he  might  have  taken  you  somewhere 
and  let  you  have  a  feed  before  bringing  you  in," 
said  the  inspector.  "  He  knew  very  well  that  I 
shouldn't  be  able  to  part  with  any  of  the  money 
taken  from  you  once  it  was  entered  up  in  the 
book.  You  can't  send  out  for  anything,  but  you 
can  have  an  'allowance  '  if  you  like." 

I  had  no  idea  what  an  "  allowance  "  was,  and  I 
didn't  like  to  ask,  but  I  gratefully  expressed  my 
desire  to  receive  it. 

I  waited  for  about  two  hours  for  that  "allow- 
ance," but  it  didn't  arrive,  and  I  got  sick  and 
miserable  for  want  of  food. 


28  A  HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  the  in- 
spector's visit  I  heard  footsteps  coming  along 
the  corridor ;  careful  footsteps,  as  if  the  man  who 
was  making  them  was  carrying  something  that 
would  spill  if  he  were  hasty.  I  made  sure  that 
this  was  the  long-promised  food,  and,  as  the 
footsteps  came  nearer  and  my  nostrils  re- 
cognized the  fragrant  smell  of  hot  coffee,  I  was 
sure  of  it.  Alas !  the  footsteps  didn't  get  as  far 
as  my  cell :  they  stopped  next  door.  What  a 
sickening  disappointment  that  was  :  I  can  feel 
the  blight  of  it  now,  as  I  write,  though  it  is  long 
behind  me. 

Then  came  the  long  period  of  expectancy 
that  ended  in  my  overcoming  my  natural  re- 
luctance to  give  trouble  and  ringing  the  bell. 

A  fresh  gaoler  came  to  the  door :  the  other 
one  had  gone  off  duty. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  tone 
that  implied  that  it  was  like  my  cheek  to  want 
anything. 

I  explained  that  the  inspector  had  promised 
me  some  food  about  a  couple  of  hours  ago  and 
that  I  was  getting  rather  anxious  about  it. 

"You've  had  it,  hours  ago,"  said  the  gaoler 
emphatically. 

There  was  an  audible  chuckle  from  the  cell 


THE   CELLS  29 

next  door  that  seemed  to  tell  the  gaoler  some- 
thing, and  he  left  me. 

"  Did  yoit  get  a  'lowance  a  couple  of  hours 
ago?"  he  asked  my  neighbour. 

"  Yus  I  did,  and  jolly  good  it  wuz  too,"  said 
the  man  in  a  tone  of  high  good-humour. 

"  But  you  had  one  before,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  I  did,  an'  I  can  do  another  if  you  'appen  to 
have  one  about  you,"  replied  my  understudy, 
laughing  as  if  he  enjoyed  the  joke. 

The  gaoler  muttered  a  profane  remark  and 
went  away. 

"  Matey  !  I  say,  matey  !  "  shouted  the  man 
next  door  to  me. 

I  took  no  notice. 

''Don't  be  proud,  matey,  if  you  are  a  toff,"  he 
continued  "  I  wuz  oney  wantin'  ter  tell  you  ter 
cheer  up  'cos  you  ain't  dead  yet." 

I  still  kept  a  stony  silence  ;  I  couldn't  forgive 
that  "allowance  "  yet. 

"  Orlright  then,"  he  said  resignedly.  "  Keep 
yerself  to  yerself  if  you  want  to.  I  wuz  goin'  ter 
offer  ter  lend  you  my  tame  solicitor  in  the 
mornin,'  but  it's  no  bet  now." 

Presently  the  gaoler  came  and  handed  me  in 
a  mug  of  steaming  hot  coffee  and  three  thick 
hunks  of  bread  and  butter. 


30  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

The  coffee  was  not  of  the  brand  I  had  been 
used  to,  and  it  was  any  odds  that  the  "butter" 
had  no  legal  right  to  the  name  ;  but  I  thought  the 
meal  a  delicious  and  satisfactory  one,  and  having 
enjoyed  it,  I  settled  down  to  the  reading  of  my 
sixpenny  novel  by  the  very  dim  light  that 
straggled  into  the  cell  from  a  gas-jet  placed 
outside  the  door. 

I  had  hardly  got  interested  in  the  book  when 
my  attention  was  distracted  by  the  sounds  of 
broken  English  being  spoken  volubly  by  some- 
one coming  along  the  passage.  As  the  sounds 
approached  my  door,  I  got  up  and  looked  out,  to 
see  a  young  fellow  in  evening  dress  who  was 
being  gently  propelled  along  the  passage  by  the 
gaoler  and  was  protesting  every  yard  of  the 
way. 

"  All  right,"  said  the  gaoler,  as  they  passed 
my  cell,  "  I'll  go  and  fetch  the  inspector  and  3'ou 
can  talk  to  him.  He'll  very  likely  do  what  you 
want,  but  I've  got  to  lock  3^ou  up." 

"I  cannot  stob  in  dis  blace,"  said  the  young 
swell.  "  I  veesh  you  to  send  a  telegram  to  my 
fader  an  'e  vill  dell  you  to  let  me  go." 

The  inspector  came  to  him  in  a  few  minutes, 
and  explained  to  him  that,  having  been  arrested 
on   an   extradition  warrant,  he   would    have   to 


THE  CELLS  31 

"  stob  in  dis  blace "  ;  but  that  a  telegram  could 
be  sent  to  his  father  if  he  had  the  money  to  pay 
for  it,  though  it  would  be  a  sure  waste  of  money, 
as  it  was  at  his  father's  instance  that  he  had  been 
arrested. 

I  learned  afterwards  that  this  young  Dutch- 
man had  forged  his  father's  name  for  a  consider- 
able amount,  and  was  making  away  with  the 
plunder  in  rapid  life  in  the  West  End  when  he 
was  arrested  at  a  fashionable  hotel.  The  tele- 
gram to  his  father  had  no  effect,  and,  after 
spending  several  weeks  at  Brixton,  he  was 
eventually  extradited.  I  saw  him  often  at 
Brixton,  and  every  time  I  saw  him  he  was  crying. 
He  was  very  sorry  for  himself  indeed ;  but  I 
fancy  that  he  was  sorrowing  over  having  been 
landed  in  prison  and  not  regretting  his  misdeed. 
I  often  find  myself  speculating  as  to  whether  he 
eventually  got  veal  or  was  left  to  browse  on 
husks. 

Up  to  the  advent  of  the  Dutchman  I 
thought  that  life  in  a  police  cell  was  rather  slow 
and  monotonous ;  but  after  his  arrival  things 
brightened  up  to  such  an  extent  that  there  was 
a  continuous  variety  entertainment  that  lasted 
until  about  three  o'clock  next  morning. 

Following   close   upon    the   gentleman   from 


12  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

Holland  came  a  very  stout  woman  with  a  new 
surgical  bandage  on  her  head. 

"  Oh,  please,  policeman,  don't  lock  me  up  !  " 
she  moaned,  as  she  was  being  hustled  along  the 
passage.  "  I've  never  been  locked  up  in  my 
life.  Oh,  "do  let  me  go  home  to  my  children ! 
They're  only  little  ones,  and  they'll  be  wondering 
what  has  become  of  me  and  crying  their  eyes 
out.     Oh,  do  let  me  go !  please !  please  ! " 

The  two  stolid  policemen  who  were  conduct- 
ing her  made  no  reply  to  her  ravings,  which 
presently  merged  into  hysterical  shrieks  as  she 
saw  the  cell  door  close  upon  her.  Poor  children, 
waiting  hour  after  hour  in  the  dark  for  mother 
to  return  from  that  "five  minutes"  round  the 
corner. 

The  next  lodger  to  arrive  was  a  man  who 
was  very  drunk  and  very  strong.  He  fought 
every  foot  of  the  passage  with  the  policemen  who 
were  trying  to  get  him  along,  and  as  he  fought 
and  struggled  he  protested  against  his  arrest  with 
all  the  force  of  a  pair  of  very  powerful  lungs. 

"  What  a  rotten  shame  bringing  me  here,"  he 
yelled.  "  I  ain't  done  nothing— I  ain't  even 
disorderly — and  my  wife'll  be  waiting  up  fer  me. 
I'll  make  some  o'  you  rotten  blighters  sit  up  for 
this,  see  if  I  don't." 


THE  CELLS  33 

When  they  had  got  him  into  a  cell  he  kicked 
at  the  door  and  shouted  demands  and  appeals  to 
be  let  out,  on  the  grounds  that  his  wife  was 
sitting  up  for  him  and  that  he  would  get  the  sack 
if  he  was  not  at  work  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  until  he  had  kicked  and  raved  himself 
into  silence.  He  was  quiet  for  perhaps  an  hour. 
Then  a  lady  in  one  of  the  cells  down  the  passage 
started  singing,  in  a  cracked  falsetto  voice, 
"Yield  not  to  temptation,  for  temptation  is  sin." 
This  appeared  to  touch  the  gentleman  whose 
wife  was  waiting  up  for  him  on  the  raw,  for  he 
wept  aloud,  and  his  weeping  was  like  unto  the 
bellowing  of  a  sick  bull.  When  he  had  wept  as 
much  as  he  felt  he  wanted  to,  he  called  the  be- 
draggled street-walker,  who  was  still  singing 
persistently,  an  angel,  and  kept  on  calling  her 
an  angel  until  it  became  monotonous  to  the 
lady  herself,  and  she  desired  him,  with  sundry 
unangelic  expressions,  to  "  Shut  up." 

Then  two  "  drunks "  were  shoved  into  my 
cell,  and  made  themselves  comfortable  on  the 
floor,  as  I  was  lying  at  full  length  on  the  bench, 
and  did  not  see  why  I  should  move.  One  of 
them,  who  spoke  with  a  strong  German  accent, 
was  argumentatively  drunk,  while  the  other's 
intoxication  ran  to  facetiousness.     The  German 


34  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

would  insist  on  discussing  Tariff  Reform,  and 
for  a  long  time  the  other  one  replied  to  him  with 
good-natured  chaffing  remarks.  At  last  the 
Englishman's  fund  of  good  temper  gave  out,  and 
he  testily  told  the  other  to  "shut  up,"  adding 
some  uncomplimentary  remarks  about  sausage 
and  sauerkraut. 

"  Ach  !  "  said  the  Deutscher,  disgustedly.  "  I 
shall  not  speak  mit  you  any  more ;  you  vas  a 
beastly  man." 

It  was  beyond  his  strength  to  keep  silence 
however,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  said  in  a 
wheedling  tone — 

"  Dis  Jamberlain  vos  a  great  man !  Not 
so,  my  friendt  ?  You  tink  he  will  be  brime 
minisder,  eh  ?  " 

"  There  you  are  again,  sauerkraut,"  said  the 
other  ill-temperedly.  "  I  thought  you  was 
choked  off.  I'll  tell  you  what,  I'd  vote  for 
Chamberlain  or  anybody  else  that  would  do 
something  to  keep  your  sort  in  their  own 
countries.  Our  coppers  and  our  prison  warders 
are  all  bein'  overworked  on  account  of  our  own 
'wrong  'uns'  havin'  to  put  up  with  so  much 
foreign  competition." 

The  German  got  on  his  feet,  took  off  his  coat, 
and  rolled  up  his  sleeves. 


THE  CELLS  35 

"  You  vill  have  a  little  fight  mit  me  my  friendt, 
eh  ?  "  he  asked  cheerfully. 

"As  much  as  you  like,"  said  the  Englishman, 
scrambling  to  his  feet.  "  I've  been  feeling  like 
that  for  a  long  time." 

Just  at  that  moment  the  opening  in  the  cell 
door  was  filled  up  by  the  face  of  the  inspector. 

"  Which  is  Johnson  ?  "  he  asked. 

"That's  me,"  said  the  Englishman. 

"  Well,  Johnson,  that  house  where  you  told 
us  to  send  for  bail  for  you  has  been  pulled  down. 
There's  been  no  house  there  for  the  past  six 
months." 

"That's  right,"  said  Johnson;  "I'd  quite  for- 
gotten for  the  moment  that  I  didn't  live  there 
any  longer." 

"Well,  we're  not  going  to  send  anywhere 
else,  so  you'd  better  make  yourself  comfortable. 
It'll  be  a  good  thing  for  you  to  try  and  remem- 
ber where  you  do  live  by  the  morning,  too,  as 
the  magistrate  likes  to  know  little  things  like 
that." 

"We're  very  crowded  here,  inspector,"  I 
ventured  to  say. 

"  So  you  are,"  he  admitted.  "  These  two 
chaps  were  only  put  in  here  for  an  hour  or  two 
until  they  got  a  bit  sober  and  were  bailed  out. 


36  A   HOLIDAY    IN   GAOL 

As  they  don't  look  like  being  bailed  I'll  move 


'em." 


Being  left  to  myself  again,  I  tried  to  compose 
myself  to  sleep,  and  at  last  dropped  off  after 
every  one  was  too  exhausted  to  continue  the 
pandemonium,  and  there  was  modified  silence 
punctuated  by  snores  in  several  keys. 


CHAPTER   IV 
THE    POLICE    COURT 

IN  the  morning,  before  it  was  light,  we  were 
let  out  one  by  one  to  wash  at  a  lavatory 
basin  fixed  in  the  passage  wall.  After  that, 
those  who  had  money  and  wanted  breakfast 
ordered  it,  and  it  was  supplied  from  an  eating- 
house  outside.  Those  who  had  no  money,  or 
whose  money  had  been  impounded,  were  regaled 
with  an  "allowance"  like  I  had  given  me  the 
previous  night.  There  was  not  much  demand 
for  solid  food,  and  even  I,  who  had  had  so  little 
the  previous  day,  could  not  tackle  the  three 
thick  slices  of  bread  and  butter,  though  I  was 
very  glad  to  get  the  coffee. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  policemen  in  charge 
of  the  cases  came,  and  each  one  escorted  his 
particular  prisoner  to  a  waiting-room  just  out- 
side the  door  leading  into  the  police-court. 

There  were  about  a  couple  of  dozen  prisoners 
in  this  room,  and  my  eyes  roved  over  them 
trying  to  pick  out   the   people  who  had   taken 

37 

S15956 


38  A   HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

leading  parts  in  the  previous  night's  entertain- 
ment ;  but  I  couldn't  fit  in  the  previous  night's 
performance  with  this  morning's  appearance 
of  any  one  of  those  present.  As  they  appeared 
this  morning,  they  were  a  very  subdued  and 
humble  lot,  and  any  one  who  hadn't  heard  them 
would  have  had  some  difficulty  in  believing  that 
they  had  made  things  so  lively  the  night  before. 

The  detective-sergeant  who  had  arrested  me 
had  quite  lost  his  friendly  manner  of  the  day 
before,  but  he  unbent  so  far  as  to  say :  "  If  I 
was  in  danger  of  going  to  prison  I  would  get 

Mr. to   defend    me.     He's   up   to  all    the 

moves  on  the  board,  he  is,  and  he's  got  the 
ear  of  the  magistrate  more  than  any  other 
solicitor  that  practises  here.  Would  you  like 
me  to  introduce  you  to  him  ?  " 

I  assented,  and  he  presently  brought  the 
solicitor  to  me. 

"  I  understand  that  you  wish  to  see  me,"  said 
he. 

"I  want  somebody  to  represent  me,"  I 
replied;  "but  I  should  like  you  to  understand 
that  all  my  available  money  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  police,  and  that  it  will  be  necessary  for  you 
to  get  it  out  of  the  hands  of  the  police  before 
you  can  be  paid." 


THE  POLICE  COURT  39 

"  All  right,"  said  he,  "  I'll  go  and  get  a  look 
at  the  information  and  see  what  I  can  do." 

My  heart  was  beating  nineteen  or  more  to  the 
dozen  as  I  entered  the  dock  and  faced  the 
magistrate,  and  I  had  hardly  got  over  my 
agitation  at  occupying  the  centre  of  the  stage 
in  a  criminal  court  for  the  first  time  in  my  life 
when  the  proceedings  for  that  day  came  to  an 
end,  and  I  found  myself  remanded  for  a  week. 

The  solicitor  applied  for  bail ;  but,  before  the 
magistrate  could  give  his  decision,  the  detective- 
sergeant  came  forward  and  said  that  at  the  next 
hearing  he  would  be  able  to  bring  fresh  charges 
against  me  involving  several  thousands  of 
pounds.  This  remark  was  reported  in  all  the 
newspapers;  but  when,  at  the  next  hearing,  I 
applied  to  have  it  put  upon  the  depositions, 
the  detective  denied  that  he  ever  made  it,  and, 
though  the  magistrate  must  have  known  that 
he  was  lying,  he  made  no  comment.  I  merely 
give  this  as  an  instance  of  the  recklessness  of 
policemen  in  giving  evidence  ;  there  was  not  the 
slightest  foundation  for  any  such  remark,  and  it 
has  always  been  a  puzzle  to  me  how  it  came  to 
be  made.  There  is  no  doubt  that  it  did  me  a 
great  deal  of  harm,  for  it  enabled  that  detective- 
sergeant,  in  the  interval  between  the  first  and 


40  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

second  hearing,  to  persuade  one  or  two  people 
to  give  evidence  against  me  who  would  have 
been  on  my  side  if  they  had  not  been  led  to 
believe  that  I  had  been  engaged  in  other  shady 
transactions.  This  may  be  a  statement  that  the 
general  public  will  find  a  bit  hard  to  swallow; 
but  every  man  who  has  been  through  the 
criminal  mill  will  bear  me  out  when  I  say  that 
few  men  who  have  stood  their  trial  for  a  criminal 
offence  leave  the  dock  without  a  strong  con- 
viction as  to  the  absolute  unreliability  and 
unfairness  of  police  evidence.  I  am  not  whining 
about  my  conviction,  and  do  not  even  say  that 
my  imprisonment  was  undeserved,  but  I  do  say 
that  it  was  brought  about  by  unfair  means,  and 
that  our  boasted  fairness  in  criminal  matters  is 
a  national  delusion.  Our  criminals  are  not  tried 
by  a  jury,  as  most  people  imagine ;  they  are  tried 
by  detectives,  and  if  the  detectives  find  them 
guilty,  they  stop  at  nothing  to  get  them  convicted. 
The  magistrate  fixed  prohibitive  bail,  and 
then  the  solicitor  made  an  application  for  the 
money  that  had  been  taken  from  me  so  that 
I  might  use  it  for  purposes  of  my  defence;  but 
the  magistrate  shook  his  head,  and  the  police 
hung  on  to  the  money  until  I  was  convicted, 
when  it  was  placed  at  my  disposal. 


THE   POLICE  COURT  41 

The  solicitor  lost  all  interest  in  me  when  he 
saw  that  my  money  could  not  be  got  at,  and 
he  never  appeared  for  me  again,  nor  asked  for 
any  fee  for  his  first  appearance. 

I  had  sunk  something  like  two  thousand 
pounds  in  my  business,  and  could  have  sold  it 
for,  perhaps,  half  this  sum  as  a  going  concern ; 
but  it  stopped  short  with  my  arrest.  The  book 
debts  could  not  be  got  in,  and  the  police  turned 
the  office  upside  down  and  took  away  all  books 
and  papers.  My  assets  were  thus  entirely 
destroyed,  and  my  entire  available  resources 
were  in  the  hands  of  the  police  who  would  not 
part  with  them,  so  that  I  was  compelled  to 
conduct  my  own  defence. 

Remanded  prisoners,  while  awaiting  the 
prison  van  to  take  them  to  Brixton  Prison,  are 
pigged  together  in  large  cells  with  other 
prisoners  who  have  been  convicted  and  are 
awaiting  the  Black  Maria  to  take  them  to  Pen- 
tonville. 

The  thing  that  struck  me  most  was  the  lack 
of  reserve  that  prisoners  thus  thrown  together 
showed  towards  each  other.  On  that  first  of  my 
six  remand  days  there  were  two  prisoners  in  the 
cell  with  me  who  had  that  day  been  sentenced. 
One  of  them  had  got  fourteen  days  for  stealing 


42  A   HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

a  goose,  and  was  as  pleased  with  himself  as  if  the 
magistrate  had  given  him  a  substantial  present. 

"  Fourteen  days !  "  he  ejaculated  gleefully, 
"  an'  I  expected  a  stretch  (a  year).  I  told  'im 
that  I  was  hungry  an'  that  a  sudden  temptation 
took  hold  of  me." 

"  '  Anythin'  known  about  him,'  sez  'e. 

'"No/  sez  the  split  (detective).  'The  police 
ain't  got  anythin'  aginst  'im.' 

"  Lorlumny !  I  wonder  what  they'd  say  if 
they  knowed  as  I'd  got  three  sessions  cons 
behind  me,  and  was  entitled  to  a  stretch  under 
the  Act.  I  thought  as  I  was  a  goner  at  Brixton 
yesterday  when  I  see  that  swivel-eyed  screw 
(warder)  from  the  Scrubs  lookin'  at  me  very 
hard  as  he  went  round  with  the  rest  of  the 
screws  and  splits  tryin'  to  twig  old  hands ;  but 
he  wasn't  lookin'  at  me  at  all,  as  it  turned  out. 
Fourteen  days !  an'  it  was  a  rippin'  fine  goose 
too." 

"  But  I  thought  that  they  could  recognize 
everybody  now  by  their  finger-prints,"  I  said 
timidly. 

"  So  they  can,  or  they  lets  on  as  they  can  ; 
but  finger-prints  don't  affect  me  this  time,  'cos 
my  other  bits  was  done  afore  they  come  in.  All 
they've  got  to  go  on  with  old  hands  is  their  dials, 


THE  POLICE  COURT  43 

and  they  sends  screws  an'  splits  to  have  a  walk 
round  the  exercise  yards  at  Brixton  to  see  if  they 
can  reckernize  any  old  pals.  I  knowed  a  good 
few  as  walked  round  while  I  was  there  this  last 
week,  but  not  one  of  them  spotted  me." 

"And  would  you  have  got  twelve  months, 
or  a  'stretch'  as  you  call  it,  if  you  had  been 
recognized !  " 

"Ab — so — bloomin' — lutely.  You  see,  under 
this  'ere  Prevention  of  Crimes  Act — about  the 
wickedest  act  that  Parlyment  ever  passed — a 
man  that's  been  convicted  twice  at  sessions  or 
assizes  is  supposed  to  be  alius  on  the  look  out 
for  chances  ter  commit  felonies,  an'  any  rozzer 
(policeman)  as  sees  him  lookin'  in  a  shop  winder, 
or  standin'  at  a  street  corner,  or  lookin'on  at  a  fight 
or  a  street  accident,  can  run  him  in  an' charge  him 
for  '  loitering,  being  a  person  subject  to  the 
Prevention  of  Crimes  Act,'  an'  the  magistrate  can 
give  'im  anythin'  up  to  a  stretch  without  any 
more  proof  than  the  rozzer's  bare  word.  This 
means  that  every  man  as  has  been  convicted 
twice  at  sessions  is  at  the  mercy  of  every  split 
and  every  rozzer  as  feels  that  he  wants  a  job.  I 
couldn't  have  grumbled  if  they'd  worked  the  Act 
on  me,  'cos  I  did  have  the  goose,  but  I've 
knowed  many  a  chap  as  has  got  a  stretch  when 


44  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

he  wasn't  doin'  anything  and  hadn't  any  idea  of 
doin'  anything'." 

Then  the  cell  door  was  opened,  and  the  other 
prisoner  was  ushered  in.  This  man  was  very 
glum,  for  he  had  actually  got  the  maximum 
twelve  months  "  under  the  Act "  ;  and  thoroughly 
deserved  it — for  his  asinine  carelessness  if  for 
nothing  else. 

He  had  stolen  a  watch  and  chain  in  a  crowd 
outside  the  Oxford  Music  Hall,  and,  though  he 
was  an  old  hand  at  the  game,  had  been  so  utterly 
foolish  as  to  go  to  the  same  neighbourhood 
the  next  night  actually  wearing  the  stolen  seal 
on  his  own  watch-chain.  The  man  who  had  lost 
the  jewellery  happened  to  be  there  too— on  the 
look-out,  he  said,  for  a  suspect  who  was  not  the 
prisoner — and,  recognizing  the  seal,  mentioned 
the  matter  to  a  policeman,  who  promptly  laid 
hands  on  the  napping  thief.  There  was  no 
direct  proof  of  his  having  stolen  the  article,  but 
there  was  hardly  any  doubt  about  it,  and  "the 
Act"  enabled  justice  to  be  done. 

"I  asked  him  to  let  me  out  on  bail  while  I  got 
married  to  a  young  woman  as  I've  got  into 
trouble,"  said  this  prisoner  pathetically;  "but 
he  said  as  I'd  get  her  into  worse  trouble  by 
marrying    her,   and   hoped   as   she'd   ferget   all 


THE  POLICE  COURT  45 

about  me  afore  I'd  done  the  twelve  months* 
hard  he  was  goin'  ter  give  me.  Blimy,  some  o' 
these  blokes  ain't  got  no  perishin'  hearts  at  all." 

Another  man  in  the  cell  had  been  fined  ten 
shillings  for  being  drunk  and  disorderly,  and  I 
identified  him  in  my  own  mind  with  the  man 
who  had  been  so  solicitous  about  his  wife  sitting 
up.  He  was  now  waiting  the  result  of  a  com- 
munication that  has  been  sent  to  the  said  wife 
saying  that  unless  she  could  produce  ten 
shillings  by  three  o'clock  he  would  be  carted  oft 
to  Pentonville  for  seven  days.  When  the  poor 
woman  arrived,  she  told  him  tearfully,  but  with- 
out a  trace  of  reproach  in  her  tone,  that  there 
was  nothing  in  the  home  on  which  she  could 
raise  the  money,  and  that  she  had  tried  to 
borrow  it  without  success.  She  now  suggested, 
as  a  last  resource,  that  the  man  should  consent 
to  her  approaching  his  employer. 

'"Tain't  no  good  goin'  there,"  said  the  man 
despondently.  "  He  said  the  last  time  as  he'd 
gie  me  the  sack  if  it  happened  agin," 

"  I  can  but  try,"  the  woman  replied,  putting 
as  much  hope  into  her  voice  as  she  could. 

"All  right;  but  it  won't  be  no  good,  so  I'll 
make  up  my  mind  to  do  the  seven  days,"  he 
rejoined. 


46  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

It  looked  very  much  as  if  he  would  have  to 
do  this,  for  he  was  actually  standing  in  the  pas- 
sage waiting  his  turn  to  get  into  the  Pentonville 
van  when  his  wife  returned  and  triumphantly 
displayed  a  half-sovereign,  which  she  held 
through  the  bars  at  the  end  of  the  passage. 

"'E  wouldn't  do  nothin'  fer  you,"  she  said, 
gleefully.  "'E  said  as  the  seven  days  'ud  do 
you  no  end  o'  good;  but  'e  give  me  this  to  help 
me  along  whilst  you  was  in,  an'  'e  med  me 
promise,  'e  did,  that  I  wouldn't  pay  the  fine  wi' 
it ;  but  I'm  goin'  to,  an'  you'll  be  out  in  a  minute, 
ole  man,  so  cheer  up." 

"She's  a  reg'lar  pal  ter  me,  my  missis  is," 
said  the  man,  joyfully. 

"  Well,  see  if  you  can't  be  a  bit  of  a  pal  to 
her,"  I  said.  "  It  isn't  very  pallish  to  go  off  on 
your  own  and  fill  yourself  up  with  beer,  leaving 
her  to  find  the  money  to  pay  the  fine." 

"  She  won't  'ave  ter  find  any  more  money  for 
fines,"  he  said  with  sincerity.  "  I'm  goin'  ter 
give  the  booze  a  long  rest  now." 

Let  us  hope  that  he  did  give  the  booze  a  rest, 
though  most  of  us  would  be  willing  to  lay  odds 
that  he  didn't. 

There  was  another  "  drunk  "  in  the  cell  whom 
it  would  have  been  a  real  pleasure  to  kick.     He 


THE   POLICE  COURT  47 

had  been  out  of  work  for  weeks  and  weeks, 
and  things  at  home  were  on  the  rock  bottom. 
The  previous  day  he  had  unexpectedly  had  a 
sovereign  given  to  him,  and  instead  of  taking  it 
home  he  had  gone  on  the  drink  with  it,  with  the 
result  that  he  was  now  up  against  a  fine  of  ten 
shillings,  or  the  usual  seven  days'  alternative. 
In  his  case  there  was  no  earthly  prospect  of 
finding  the  money,  and  he  was  quite  resigned 
to  going  up  to  "the  'Ville  "  for  seven  days.  In 
taking  leave  of  him  his  wife  said  in  a  wheedling 
tone — 

"  Have  you  got  a  few  coppers  left  as  you 
could  give  me,  Jim  ?  There  is  nothing  at  home, 
an'  the  kids  'asn't  had  anythin'  to  eat  to-day." 

The  brute  assured  her,  with  an  appeal  to  the 
Almighty  to  strike  him  dead  if  he  was  lying, 
that  he  hadn't  got  a  "  brass  farden  " ;  but  after 
she  had  gone  away  crying  he  said  with  a 
snigger — 

"  I've  got  'arf-a-dollar,  but  I  couldn't  give  'er 
that,  'cos  I  shall  want  it  fer  a  drink  when  I  come 
out." 


CHAPTER  V 
ON    REMAND 

MY  case  was  over  for  the  day  before  eleven 
o'clock,  and  from  that  time  until  after  five 
in  the  afternoon,  when  the  Brixton  van  arrived, 
was  a  very  long  wait  without  food.  I  asked  the 
sergeant  gaoler  if  I  could  not  have  something  to 
eat,  and  he  replied  to  the  effect  that  I  could  have 
as  much  as  I  liked,  and  a  certain  quantity  of 
beer  or  wine  also,  if  I  had  money  to  pay  for  it. 
I  told  him  the  old  story  about  my  money  having 
been  taken  away  from  me,  and  as  soon  as  he 
found  I  was  penniless  his  civil  and  accom- 
modating tone  turned  to  brusqueness,  and  he 
told  me  shortly  that  I  could  get  nothing  until  I 
arrived  at  Brixton. 

Everybody  who  is  brought  into  contact  with 
a  prisoner  during  the  police-court  stage  of  his 
case  is  on  the  make.  As  I  have  already  said, 
the  detective  who  arrests  him  expects  some- 
thing; the  gaoler  at  the  court  will  ask  him  if  he 

48 


ON   REMAND  49 

wants  the  change  out  of  the  half-crown  he  has 
given    to    the    officer    to    purchase    food ;    the 
sergeant    in    charge   of   the    police-van   is    not 
averse   to   earning    a    shilling    by   doing    little 
services ;  the  warders  at  Brixton  hover  round 
him  with  solicitous  attentions  if  he  looks  as  if  he 
has  money  or  moneyed  friends ;  and  even  the 
doorkeeper  at  the  court  will  take  a  tip  from  a 
prisoner's   friends  if  he  can  get  it.      I   do   not 
remember  having    seen   anything    about   these 
practices  in  print,  but  I  do  not  see  any  reason 
for  being  reticent  about  them  :  they  undoubtedly 
exist,  as  any  man  who  has  been  through  the  mill 
can  testify.     One  of  the  warders  at  Brixton  even 
asked  me  to  give  him  my  dirty  underclothing, 
and  got  it,  too.     I  do  not  think  that  many  people 
will  blame  them  for  taking  what  they  can  get ; 
I  certainly  do  not,  and  would  supplement  my 
miserable  pay  in  the  same  way  if  I  were  in  the 
same  position  and  had  the  chance. 

At  last  the  Brixton  van  arrived,  and  the 
"remands"  were  brought  out  of  the  cells  and 
stood  in  a  line  in  the  passage.  Then  the 
sergeant-gaoler  stood  at  the  door  with  the  blue 
commitment  papers  in  his  hand,  and  as  he 
named  a  prisoner,  that  prisoner  passed  him  and 
got  into  the  van. 

£ 


50  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

The  man  in  front  of  me  was  of  a  build  that  is 
evidently  not  criminal,  for  when  I  got  into  the 
van  he  was  just  finding  that  he  could  not  get 
into  one  of  the  little  cells  that  lined  both  sides 
of  it.  He  was  eventually  directed  to  stand  side- 
ways in  the  passage  that  ran  up  the  centre,  and 
in  that  position  made  that  journey  and  subse- 
quent ones  to  and  from  the  court.  He  eventually 
got  eighteen  months'  hard  labour,  and  I  expect 
that  he  would  have  found  himself  to  be  a  better 
fit  for  the  van  at  the  end  of  it,  for  prison  life  is 
death  to  adipose  tissue. 

Prison-van  customs  are  very  free  and  easy — 
even  the  sergeant  in  charge  will  gossip  with  the 
prisoners  on  occasion.  The  top  halves  of  the 
cell  doors,  which  let  down  like  railway-carriage 
windows,  were  always  left  down,  and  the  inmates 
of  the  vehicle  had  unrestricted  intercourse  with 
one  another,  and  passed  cigarettes  and  matches 
from  hand  to  hand.  When  the  noise  got  beyond 
bounds,  the  sergeant  would  say :  "  A  little  less 
noise,  please,"  but  this  was  the  extent  of  his 
interference. 

It  was  a  very  long  journey,  that  drive  to 
Brixton,  for  we  had  to  go  round  to  some  of  the 
other  courts  and  collect  their  passengers,  and  it 
was  close  upon   seven  o'clock   before   the   van 


ON   REMAND  51 

rolled  up  to  the  "reception  ward"  of  the  prison 
and  we  were  invited  to  get  out. 

We  were  ushered  into  a  sort  of  entrance  hall 
and  here  we  stood  round  the  walls  while  the 
reception  warder  checked  us  off  against  the 
commitment  papers  and  gave  the  prison-van 
sergeant  a  receipt  for  our  bodies.  When  this 
ceremony  had  been  completed,  we  were  marched 
along  a  passage  with  cells  on  one  side  of  it  to  a 
small  desk  at  the  end,  where  sat  a  warder  who 
demanded  from  each  man  in  turn  sundry 
biographical  particulars  which  he  entered  as 
given  on  a  four-paged  octavo  form. 

Then  we  were  passed  on  round  a  corner  and 
told  to  take  our  boots  and  socks  off,  stand  on  a 
sheet  that  was  spread  on  the  stone  floor  by 
the  side  of  a  door,  and  wait  our  turns  to  be 
searched. 

The  sheet  was  a  bit  crowded  by  the  time  I 
got  to  it,  and  I  stood  on  the  stones,  which 
brought  forth  an  admonition  from  the  warder  to 
"stand  on  the  sheet;  they  won't  give  you  any 
less  if  you  get  rheumatics  in  your  feet." 

One  by  one  as  our  names  were  called  we 
went  into  the  search-room  and  stripped  to  the 
shirt  behind  a  screen.  Then  one  warder  took  our 
weights  and  heights,  while  another  searched  our 


52  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

clothing.  A  third  warder,  sitting  at  a  desk  with 
a  big  book  in  front  of  him,  took  particulars  of  the 
contents  of  our  pockets.  The  contents  of  mine, 
on  arrest,  with  the  exception  of  the  money,  had 
been  returned  to  me  before  leaving  Bow  Street ; 
but  I  only  retained  them  until  I  got  into  this 
search-room,  as  everything  is  taken  away  and 
made  up  into  a  parcel,  which  is  given  back  to 
the  prisoner  when  he  leaves.  For  some  reason, 
which  is  hard  to  get  at,  there  is  special  attention 
given  to  the  prevention  of  prisoners  at  Brixton 
retaining  possession  of  pieces  of  lead-pencil. 
Any  lead-pencil  turned  out  of  his  pockets  by  a 
prisoner  himself,  or  found  about  him  by  the 
searching  warder  is  at  once  confiscated  and  not 
returned  to  the  prisoner  with  his  other  property. 
I  made  a  special  application  to  the  governor  of 
the  prison  to  have  a  pencil  I  had  brought  in 
returned  to  me  when  I  went  out  for  the  next 
hearing  at  the  police  court,  so  that  I  might  use 
it  for  the  purpose  of  taking  notes  for  my  defence, 
and  my  application  was  refused. 

I  have  no  fault  whatever  to  find  with  the  way 
in  which  the  warders  conducted  these  searching 
operations,  and,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  they  did 
not  degrade  any  one  more  than  was  absolutely 
necessary;  but  I  must  say  that  I  did  see  them 


ON   REMAND  53 

make  very  minute  examinations  in  one  or  two 
cases  where  the  prisoner  was  under  suspicion  of 
trying  to  best  them. 

Any  man  who  is  wearing  decent  clothes  is 
allowed  to  retain  them  while  on  remand  if  he 
wishes  to  do  so;  but  no  option  is  given  to 
prisoners  whose  clothing  is  either  ragged  or 
dirty.  Men  who  do  not  wish,  or  are  not  allowed, 
to  wear  their  own  clothes,  are  given  a  suit  of 
blue  prison  clothing — blue  is  the  colour  for 
debtors  and  unconvicted  prisoners,  brown  for 
second  division,  and  khaki  for  hard  labour — and 
their  own  outfits  are  bundled  up,  without  any 
folding  or  precautions  to  avoid  creasing  of  coats 
or  bashing  of  hats,  and  stoved.  Some  of  the 
men  whose  clothes  are  treated  like  this  look  a 
bit  scarecrowish  when  they  go  in ;  but  they  are 
all  without  exception  fully  qualified  for  the  job 
when  they  go  out. 

"  Pick  up  your  clothes  and  go  through  there," 
said  the  searching-warder  to  me  when  he  had 
finished  "going  over  me." 

He  pointed  to  a  door  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
room,  and,  going  through  it  as  directed,  I  found 
myself  in  a  large  bath-house  with  a  long  row  of 
luxurious  porcelain  baths,  in  cubicles  open  at 
both  ends,  running  down  the  centre.     The  only 


54  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

criticism  that  can  be  made  of  the  bathing 
arrangements  is  that  little  or  no  room  is  avail- 
able in  the  cubicles  for  dressing,  and  that  a 
prisoner  is  hunted  out  of  the  bath  almost  as  soon 
as  he  gets  in. 

After  the  bath,  I  was  directed  to  a  door  which 
opened  into  a  big  room  having  little  sentry-box- 
like cells  round  three  sides  of  it,  the  other  side 
being  taken  up  with  clothes  and  linen  racks  and 
the  door  of  the  medical  inspection  room.  As 
soon  as  I  appeared  in  this  room,  a  warder 
escorted  me  to  one  of  the  little  cells  and  locked 
me  in.  There  was  a  shelf  at  the  back  to  serve 
as  a  seat,  and  sitting  down  on  this,  I  waited 
patiently  for  the  feeding  to  start. 

I  hadn't  waited  long  when  the  door  was 
banged  open,  and  a  warder  asked  me  if  I  had 
left  the  prison  that  morning.  On  my  replying 
in  the  negative,  he  handed  me  an  eight-ounce 
brown  loaf,  cut  in  half  and  made  into  an 
agricultural  sort  of  sandwich  by  the  insertion  of 
a  five-ounce  wedge  of  preserved  meat  between 
the  halves.  He  left  the  door  open,  and  next 
moment  another  warder  came  along  and  asked, 
"Do  you  want  any  of  this?"  as  he  pointed  to  a 
large  can  of  porridge  that  a  prisoner  with  him 
was  carrying. 


ON   REMAND  55 

I  didn't  want  any  of  it,  and  at  that  moment 
was  absolutely  certain  that  I  should  never  be 
wanting  any  of  it ;  but  I  was  mistaken,  for  it 
didn't  take  me  a  week,  when  I  started  in  to  work 
out  my  sentence,  to  discover  that  porridge  eaten 
with  a  fairly  liberal  allowance  of  salt  is  miles  in 
front  of  porridge  eaten  with  milk  and  sugar. 
Prisoners  who  had  only  been  away  for  the  day 
and  were  returned  on  further  remand  got  no 
meat,  as  it  had  been  given  to  them  on  leaving  in 
the  morning  to  make  their  dinner  on  at  the  court, 
and  such  men  had  to  make  their  evening  meal  on 
dry  bread  alone,  if  they  didn't  happen  to  fancy 
the  porridge.  I  never  saw  anybody  eat  the 
porridge  at  Brixton,  unless  they  were  old 
hands  at  prison  life ;  the  first  timers  passed 
it  to  a  man,  but  it  would  be  pretty  safe  to 
bet  that  they  were  not  passing  it  a  month 
afterwards. 

I  made  a  very  satisfactory  meal  on  the  bread 
and  meat,  although  the  meat  was  nothing  like  up 
to  Chicago  standard,  and  tasted  more  like  pressed 
beef-tea  meat  after  the  beef-tea  had  done  with  it 
than  anything  else.  This  kind  of  preserved  meat 
forms  the  piece  de  resistance  of  every  Sunday 
dinner  in  prison,  and  I  notice  that  quite  a 
large  number  of  prisoners  never  ate  it;   but  I 


56  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

wasn't  one  of  the  fastidious  ones,  and  always 
looked  with  longing  eyes  at  the  rejected  slabs 
when  I  saw  them  in  the  dinner-tins  outside  the 
cell  doors  as  I  marched  past  them  to  afternoon 
chapel. 


CHAPTER  VI 
MEDICAL    INSPECTION 

I  HADN'T  time  to  finish  my  supper  before 
the  doors  were  thrown  open  again,  and  we 
were  told  to  form  a  queue  in  front  of  the  door  of 
the  medical  inspection-room.  The  food  was  too 
precious  to  leave  behind,  so  I  carried  it  with  me, 
and  went  on  eating  it  in  fear  and  trembling  lest 
I  was  sinning  against  the  prison  regulations. 
There  were  many  others  doing  the  same  thing, 
but  the  only  notice  the  warder  took  was  to 
admonish  us  to  "  get  that  down  you  afore  the 
doctor  comes."  One  old  chap  in  prison  dress 
surreptitiously  captured  a  tin  of  porridge  that 
was  standing  on  the  seat  of  an  open  cell, 
and  feverishly  scooped  up  the  cold  mess  with  his 
hand,  licking  the  stuff  off  his  fingers  lovingly  as 
if  it  were  the  daintiest  of  dainty  morsels.  I 
couldn't  understand  his  taste  at  all  then,  and 
thought  there  was  something  beast-like  about  his 
proceedings ;  but  I  hadn't  been  in  prison  under 
sentence  long  before  I  began  to  feel  very  much 

57 


58  A  HOLIDAY   IN  GAOL 

like  the  same  thing  myself,  and  would  have  con- 
sidered the  finding  of  an  extra  pint  of  porridge 
as  a  very  great  piece  of  good  fortune  indeed. 

"  Open  your  coats  and  waistcoats,  unbutton 
your  trousers,  and  get  ready  to  pull  up  your 
shirts,"  shouted  the  warder,  as  the  doctor  passed 
into  the  inspection-room. 

Then  we  went  in  before  him,  one  out  next  in, 
and  the  doctor  examined  us  at  the  rate  of  about 
one  a  minute. 

Dr.  Scott,  who  has  recently  vacated  the 
appointment  on  promotion  to  be  Governor  of 
Holloway,  was  the  principal  medical  officer  of 
Brixton  Prison  then,  and  it  was  he  who  was 
examining  the  prisoners  that  evening. 

There  are  very  few  men,  I  imagine,  among 
the  many  thousands  who  passed  through  Brixton 
during  his  term  of  office  there,  who  don't  think 
kindly  thoughts  of  Dr.  Scott,  though  he  is  hardly 
the  type  of  man  to  diverge  from  the  strict  line  of 
duty  in  order  to  do  a  favour  to  anybody.  He  is 
a  dapper  little  man  with  a  friendly  twinkle  in 
his  eyes  that  seems  to  radiate  sympathy  all 
around  him,  and  as  soon  as  I  saw  him  I  seemed 
to  receive  a  sort  of  telepathic  assurance  that  the 
outlook  for  me  was  not  nearly  so  black  as  my 
fancy  had  painted  it. 


MEDICAL  INSPECTION  59 

"Are you  all  right?"  he  asked,  as  he  applied 
the  stethoscope  to  my  chest. 

"  I  am  in  good  health,  as  far  as  I  know,"  I 
replied. 

"  You're  feeling  a  bit  depressed  though,  aren't 
you  ?  That  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at  in  the 
circumstances.  Have  you  ever  been  in  trouble 
before?" 

I  hardly  understood  what  he  meant  and  looked 
at  him  questioningly. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  prison,  I  mean,"  he 
said  smilingly.  "  Didn't  you  know  that  the  only 
sort  of  trouble  known  to  a  gaol-bird  is  the  being 
in  prison  ?" 

I  didn't  know  it,  and  said  so.  I  also  denied 
having  "been  in  trouble"  myself  before. 

"  I  was  satisfied  that  you  hadn't,  but  it  is  usual 
to  ask,"  he  said  apologetically.  "  You  must  cheer 
up  and  hope  for  the  best ;  it  doesn't  do  anybody 
good  to  brood  over  misfortunes." 

This  was  all  that  passed  between  us,  but  his 
manner  conveyed  a  great  deal  more  than  his 
actual  words  did ;  it  seemed  to  say  to  me  that  I 
would  have  to  be  proved  guilty  before  he  could 
harbour  any  ill  opinion  of  me. 

After  all  had  been  examined,  a  principal 
warder  came  in  and  seated  himself  at  a  table  in 


6o  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

the  middle  of  the  room  on  which  there  was  a 
pile  of  yellow  cloth  disks  with  a  leather  button- 
hole stitched  on  to  them,  and  bearing  large  black 
numbers. 

As  the  principal  warder  called  out  a  name, 
the  prisoner  who  owned  it  went  up  to  the  table 
and  received  one  of  the  yellow  disks  bearing 
the  number  and  location  of  the  cell  he  was  to 
occupy.  He  was  told  to  hang  this  label  on  the 
top  button  of  his  coat,  and  then  he  received 
a  hair-brush  and  comb,  a  pillow-case,  a  towel, 
and  a  pair  of  sheets.  When  thus  outfitted, 
he  passed  over  into  one  of  several  groups 
that  were  being  formed  at  the  other  side  of 
the  room. 

"  Put  me  on  the  C  2's,  sir,  if  you  please,  sir. 
I  am  a  good  worker,  sir,"  said,  in  wheedling, 
tones,  a  big  strapping  prisoner  who  was  clad  in 
prison  blue. 

"  Hello !  You  here  again  ?  "  said  the  principal 
warder.  "  Same  old  thing,  I  see,"  he  continued, 
as  he  looked  at  the  man's  descriptive  form.  "  I 
suppose  you'll  be  fuUied  (committed  for  trial) 
this  time." 

"  Yes,  the  magistrate  said  to-day  that  he  was 
goin'  ter  send  me  up  ;  but  it  wasn't  me  as  done  it 
this  time,  sir,  it  really  wasn't." 


MEDICAL   INSPECTION  6i 

"No,  I  don't  suppose  it  was  :  you  don't  know 
how  to  do  that  sort  of  thing,"  said  the  principal 
warder  drily,  and  the  prisoner  laughed. 

"Do  you  want  a  cleaner?"  asked  the 
principal  warder,  turning  to  the  warder  in 
charge  of  one  of  the  groups. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  warder.  "  I'd  be  glad 
to  have  him,  too,  if  he's  going  to  be  fuUied  ;  he's 
a  good  man." 

"All  right  then,"  said  the  principal,  as  he 
handed  the  coveted  badge  to  the  prisoner. 

I  learned  afterwards  that  this  gentleman  was 
in  the  habit  of  chastening  any  unfortunate  police- 
man he  might  happen  to  come  across  after  he 
had  been  having  a  night  out ;  and  as  he  was 
much  given  to  having  nights  out,  his  convic- 
tions for  assaulting  the  police  were  numerous. 
His  anxiety  to  get  posted  to  No.  2  ward  of  the 
C  block  was  due  to  the  fact  that  that  ward 
was  where  the  majority  of  the  swell  prisoners 
who  paid  half-a-crown  a  week  for  their  cells 
and  had  their  meals  sent  in  from  outside  were 
located,  and  cleaners  there  earned  money  by 
waiting  on  them,  and  had  the  reversion  of 
any  food  they  couldn't  eat,  so  that  it  was  a 
"pinch"  for  an  impecunious  prisoner  to  get 
there. 


62  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

At  last  all  the  prisoners  but  myself  were 
disposed  of  and  marched  away. 

"Take  him  over  to  the  hospital,"  said  the 
principal  warder  to  the  only  officer  who  was 
left. 

I  didn't  feel  at  all  like  a  fit  subject  for  the 
hospital,  and  didn't  want  to  go  there,  as  at  that 
time  I  didn't  know  and  didn't  suspect  that  it  was 
the  most  comfortable  place  I  could  go  to.  I 
remarked  that  there  must  be  some  mistake,  as 
there  was  nothing  the  matter  with  me,  and  the 
doctor  had  said  nothing  about  sending  me  to 
hospital. 

"There's  no  mistake;  the  doctor  has  marked 
you  down  for  hospital  right  enough.  He  must 
have  forgot  to  ask  you  whether  you'd  like  to  go 
or  not,"  said  the  principal  warder  drily. 

If  was  after  eight  o'clock  then,  and  the 
hospital  lights  were  turned  down  for  the  night ; 
but  a  white-jacketed  hospital  warder  on  night 
duty  ushered  me  into  a  comfortable  hospital  cell, 
brought  me  a  mug  of  hot  beef  tea,  and  gave  me 
a  book — "White  Wings,"  by  the  late  William 
Black. 

"  It's  the  doctor's  orders  that  your  light  is  to 
be  left  on  all  night,  so  you  can  read  a  bit  after 
you  are  in  bed  if  you  like,"  he  said.    "  Good 


MEDICAL   INSPECTION  63 

night !    Touch  that  bell  if  you  happen  to  want 
anything." 

"Good  Lord!"  thought  I,  as  I  got  between 
the  clean  linen  sheets,  "this  is  a  bit  better  treat- 
ment than  one  gets  at  a  first-class  hotel." 


CHAPTER  VII 
FIRST    FRIENDS 

I  DIDN'T  sleep  very  well  that  night,  for  my 
thoughts  were  very  troublesome,  and  the 
light  shining  into  the  cell  helped  them  to  keep 
me  wakeful.  I  was  on  the  point  of  dropping  off 
several  times  when  I  was  aroused  to  wakefulness 
again  by  the  click  of  the  cover  to  the  observation 
hole  in  the  door,  which  showed  that  the  night 
warder  was  keeping  his  eye  on  me  pretty  closely. 
I  managed  to  get  soundly  asleep  at  last  however, 
in  spite  of  all  these  hindrances ;  but  this  could 
not  have  happened  until  well  on  towards 
morning,  because  when  the  bell  rang  at  seven 
o'clock — it  was  Sunday  morning,  when  the  rous- 
ing bell  rings  at  seven  instead  of  at  six — I  felt 
like  a  man  who  has  been  awakened  directly  after 
he  has  dropped  asleep. 

"Just  put  your  slops  out  here  and  make  your 
bed,"  said,  very  civilly,  the  warder  who  opened 
the  door. 

This  was  all  I  had  to  do,  for  a  cleaner  came 

64 


FIRST   FRIENDS  65 

in  and  tidied  up  my  cell.  On  the  second  morning 
my  sense  of  shame  at  letting  another  prisoner 
wait  upon  me  caused  me  to  ask  for  a  broom  so 
that  I  might  clean  the  cell  myself,  and  thereafter 
I  did  everything  in  the  cell  except  the  periodical 
scrubbing,  which  was  done  on  days  that  I  was 
at  the  police-court. 

Breakfast  followed  quickly  on  the  collection 
of  slops,  as  was  the  case  on  every  Sunday 
morning  throughout  the  whole  term  of  my 
imprisonment;  the  daily  routine  is  not  put  back 
an  hour  on  account  of  the  late  Sunday  morning 
rising,  and  everything  is  hurried  until  the  hour 
is  made  up. 

For  breakfast  I  got  a  pint  mug  of  very  good 
tea  and  a  half-pound  loaf  of  excellent  white 
bread  cut  into  slices  and  buttered. 

After  breakfast  was  served  there  was  a  long 
wait  until  about  ten  o'clock,  when  those  hospital 
prisoners  who  were  able  to  get  about  were  let 
out  into  the  yard  for  exercise.  I  was  not,  on 
this  first  day,  put  to  walk  round  with  the  ruck  ; 
but  was  allowed  to  stroll  up  and  down  in  a  corner 
in  company  with  a  solicitor  who  was  being  held 
in  durance  sine  die  under  an  order  of  the  high 
court  because  he  wouldn't  part  with  some  money 
belonging  to  a  client.     He  told  me  that  he  had 

F 


66  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

already  been  in  the  prison  for  three  months,  and 
looked  like  being  kept  there  for  the  rest  of  his 
natural  life  if  the  court  made  the  production  of 
this  money  the  condition  of  his  release,  as  he 
hadn't  got  the  money  and  saw  no  earthly  prospect 
of  getting  it.  I  believe  he  was  afterwards 
charged  under  the  Larceny  Act  with  misappro- 
priating the  money,  and  sentenced  to  a  term 
of  penal  servitude ;  but  at  the  time  he  was  in 
Brixton  with  me  he  was  simply  confined  there 
for  contempt  of  court  in  not  paying  the  money 
when  an  order  had  been  made  for  him  to  do  so, 
and  he  had  no  idea  that  a  criminal  charge  would 
be  brought  against  him  in  connection  with  the 
money.  This  was  not  the  only  solicitor  I  met  in 
gaol,  not  by  a  long  chalk.  I  seemed  to  be 
always  in  daily  contact  with  one  or  more 
solicitors  during  the  whole  of  my  prison  life,  and 
as  I  never  met  even  one  actor,  I  couldn't  help 
reflecting  upon  the  fact  that  though  an  actor  is  a 
"  rogue  and  a  vagabond  "  by  statute,  he  doesn't 
trouble  the  judicial  authorities  much,  while  the 
attorneys,  though  statute-made  "  gentlemen,"  are 
a  very  criminal  body  of  men.  Notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  there  are  so  many  solicitors  to  be 
met  with  in  prison,  I  do  not  think  that  solicitors 
are    fundamentally    worse    men    than    doctors, 


FIRST   FRIENDS  ^1 

barristers,  and  parsons.  What  brings  nearly 
every  solicitor  to  prison  who  gets  there  is  the 
fact  that  he  has  had  the  handling  of  other 
people's  money  without  there  being  any  sort  of 
check  or  supervision  over  him ;  and  in  similar 
circumstances  it  is  highlyprobable  that  barristers, 
doctors,  and  parsons  wouldn't  show  up  any 
better.  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation,"  is  the 
most  useful  sort  of  prayer  that  a  man  can  utter, 
for  few  men  can  withstand  temptation  in  an 
insidious  form,  and  no  man  can  know  whether  he 
is  really  honest  or  not  until  he  has  done  so. 

We  were  not  supposed  to  speak  to  one 
another,  even  while  still  unconvicted  and  pre- 
sumably only  at  Brixton  for  safe  custody  ;  but, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  little  restraint  of 
conversation  between  the  prisoners,  provided 
that  it  is  carried  on  discreetly,  and  not  forced  on 
the  warders'  notice.  I  hadn't  become  alive  to  this 
on  that  Sunday  morning,  and  so  said  nothing  to 
the  solicitor  until  he  opened  the  conversation  by 
asking  the  first  question  that  one  prisoner 
invariably  asks  another :  "  What  are  you  in 
for  ?  " 

On  my  replying  that  I  was  "  in"  for  obtaining 
money  by  false  pretences,  but  that  I  wasn't 
guilty,    the     solicitor   politely    murmured,  "Of 


68  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

course,"  and  proceeded  to  explain  to  me  the 
difference  between  his  status  in  the  prison  and 
that  of  the  ordinary  inhabitant. 

We  hadn't  got  any  further  in  our  confidences 
when  Dr.  Scott  entered  the  yard,  and  we  were  all 
formed  up  in  line  for  his  inspection.  He  had  a 
cheery  word  for  every  one  and  with  most  of 
those  present  he  went  into  medical  matters ;  but 
in  my  case  he  fulfilled  the  medical  part  of  the 
interview  by  putting  his  stethoscope  over  the 
region  of  my  heart  on  the  outside  of  my  over- 
coat and  keeping  it  there  for  about  two  seconds. 

"There  isn't  much  the  matter  with  you,"  said 
the  solicitor  as  soon  as  Dr.  Scott  had  gone  and 
we  were  walking  up  and  down  again. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  there  is,"  I  replied,  "and  I 
cannot  imagine  why  he  sent  me  here." 

"  Did  they  keep  the  light  on  in  your  cell  all 
night  ?  " 

"  Yes,  they  did.  But  what  has  that  got  to 
do  with  it?"  I  asked  in  surprise. 

"  It  accounts  for  the  milk  in  the  cocoanut," 
he  replied.  "  It  shows  that  Dr.  Scott  sent  you 
here  because  he  thinks  that  you  are  just  the  sort 
of  man  to  attempt  to  commit  suicide,  and  he 
wants  to  soften  your  fall  for  you  as  much  as 
possible  so  as  to  prevent  your  getting  the  idea 


FIRST  FRIENDS  69 

into  your  head.  The  light  is  left  on  in  your  cell 
so  that  the  night  warder  may  keep  a  very  strict 
watch  on  you."  ' 

If  that  was  really  Dr.  Scott's  reason  for 
sending  me  to  hospital — and  I  myself  believe  that 
it  was— it  does  little  credit  to  his  powers  of 
observation,  inasmuch  as  I  am  a  man  of  very 
sanguine  temperament,  and  about  the  very  last 
man  in  the  world  to  dream  of  self-destruction. 
It  goes  to  show,  though,  how  very  careful  he  was 
in  looking  after  the  prisoners  committed  to  his 
professional  care. 

After  exercise  we  prisoners  who  belonged  to 
the  Church  of  England  were  taken  up  into  one 
of  the  association  wards  where  we  sat  round 
the  table  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  while  the  prison 
chaplain  talked  to  us.  It  was  a  very  perfunc- 
tory performance,  and  I  felt  sorry  for  the  poor 
old  parson,  who  went  through  with  it  as  if  he 
recognized  the  utter  futility  of  it  all.  He  was 
a  terrible  driveller  was  that  particular  prison 
chaplain,  and  it  was  a  positive  infliction  to 
sit  under  him  at  chapel ;  but  there  was  a 
stalwart,  manly  young  parson  who  used  some- 
times to  come  and  do  the  prison  chaplain's  duty, 
and  made  a  practice  of  talking  very  straight  to 
the  prisoners.    He  didn't  worry  us  with  points  of 


70  A  HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

doctrine,  and  his  sermons  might  have  done  duty 

in    any    denomination :    but    he    preached    the 

gospel  of  "  do  as  you'd  have  others  do  to  you  " 

to  such  purpose  that  a  man  who  owned  to  having 

got    his    living    by  thieving   all   his   life    from 

boyhood  upwards  told  me  that  after  the  parson's 

sermon  he  couldn't  help  fancying  himself  in  the 

position  of  a  man  who  had  been  robbed,  and  that 

he  was  convinced   that   thieving  was  about  as 

mean  and  unmanly  a  game  as  the  parson  had  said 

it  was.     That  parson  was  not  a  prison  chaplain 

at  all — I  rather  fancy  that  he  was  the  incumbent 

of  some  church  in  the  vicinity  of  the  prison— but 

it  is  a  real   pity  that  he  is   not  in  the   prison 

service   in  place  of  one  of  the  many  inefficient 

drones  who   are.     I   don't  say   that  all   prison 

chaplains,  or  even  a  majority  of  them,  are  round 

pegs  in  square    holes — my    experience  of  them 

would  not  justify  my  making  such  an  assertion — 

but  as  three  out  of  the  four  prison  chaplains  I 

came  in  contact  with  were  certainly  and  palpably 

out  of  place  in  a  prison,  it  is  evident  that  these 

officers   are  not  so  carefully  selected  as  they 

ought  to  be. 

When  the  Sunday  dinner  came  along,  I  was 
agreeably  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  a  really 
well-cooked  and  tasty  meal,  which  I  could  eat  to 


FIRST  FRIENDS  71 

the  last  scrap  and  thoroughly  enjoy.  It  consisted 
of  five  ounces  of  roasted  meat,  swimming  in 
delicious  gravy,  a  couple  of  large  potatoes 
boiled  in  their  jackets,  some  tender  cabbage,  and 
a  six-ounce  loaf  of  white  bread. 

It  was  a  long  stretch  between  dinner  and  tea 
— bread  and  butter  with  tea  as  at  breakfast — but 
I  got  through  it  comfortably  enough  by  the  aid 
of  my  book,  and  it  was  a  longer  stretch  still 
between  tea  at  about  half-past  three  and  bedtime 
at  eight ;  but  I  was  thoroughly  interested  in 
William  Black's  fine  yachting  novel,  and  bedtime 
came  rather  sooner  than  I  was  ready  for  it. 

Next  morning,  before  breakfast,  the  medicine 
warder  served  me  with  a  dose  of  cascara, 
and  I  had  the  dose  repeated  every  morning 
while  I  remained  in  hospital.  The  only  other 
medicine  I  had  while  in  hospital  was  one 
dose  of  quinine,  which  I  asked  Dr.  Scott  for 
when  I  had  been  there  for  about  a  week,  and 
rather  got  his  back  up  by  my  clumsy  way  of 
demanding  it. 

"Could  I  have  a  dose  of  quinine — fifteen 
grains?"  I  asked  him  one  morning  when  he 
was  paying  me  his  usual  duty  visit. 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  an  apothecary's  boy  ?  " 
he  asked  with  some  asperity.     "  If  you'll  tell  me 


72  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

what  is  the  matter,  'I'll  prescribe  for  you,  but 
I'm  hanged  if  you're  going  to  doctor  yourself 
here,  if  you  are  fool  enough  to  do  it  outside." 

Then  I  explained,  as  I  ought  to  have  done 
before  asking  for  the  stuff,  that  I  was  subject  to 
attacks  of  malaria,  and  that  when  I  felt  one 
coming  on  I  more  often  than  not  choked  it  off 
by  taking  fifteen  grains  of  quinine. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said  in  a  mollified  tone. 
"  You  may  have  the  quinine  with  pleasure  ; 
but  remember  in  future  that  you  should  never 
start  a  consultation  with  a  medical  man  by  telling 
him  how  to  treat  you." 


CHAPTER  VIII 
IDENTIFICATION 

AFTER  breakfast  on  the  Monday  morning 
the  open  iron  grating  that  served  as  a  cell 
door  in  the  day  time  was  unlocked  by  a  warder 
from  the  prison  proper,  who  tersely  bade  me 
"Come  on." 

"  What's  on  ? "  I  asked,  as  we  crossed  the 
prison  yard. 

"Nothing  much,"  he  replied  good-humouredly. 
"  We're  only  going  to  see  if  you  are  an  old  pal 
of  ours  in  disguise." 

He  took  me  to  a  room  in  the  reception  ward 
where,  lying  on  a  table,  were  a  plate  of  polished 
copper  about  a  foot   long  and  six  inches  wide 
mounted  on  a  block  of  wood,  a  roller  made  of 
printers'  inking  composition,  an  inking  slab,  and 
some  forms  printed  on  white  foolscap. 
"  Are  your  hands  clean  ?  "  he  asked. 
"Quite,"  I  replied,  showing  them. 
"Very  well,  then,  we'll  proceed  to  take  your 
sign-manual,"   he   said   as  he  rubbed  the   inked 

n 


74  A  HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

roller  vigorously  over  the  copper-plate  until  it 
showed  a  shiny  black  surface. 

When  he  had  inked  the  plate  to  his  satisfac- 
tion, he  took  hold  of  my  right  hand  by  the  wrist 
with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  gently  rolled 
my  thumb  from  side  to  side,  first  on  the  inked 
slab  and  then  on  a  ruled  space  on  one  of  the 
white  forms,  making  not  an  ordinary  thumb 
print,  as  is  generally  represented  in  newspaper 
articles  on  finger-prints,  but  a  sort  of  square 
impression  that  showed  the  lines  at  the  side 
of  the  thumb  as  well  as  those  on  the  front.  He 
repeated  this  operation  with  the  fingers  of  my 
right  hand  and  the  thumb  and  fingers  of  my 
left,  the  markings  of  the  left  hand  being  shown 
underneath  the  spaces  allotted  for  the  markings 
on  the  right.  Then  I  was  made  to  place  just  the 
tips  of  my  right-hand  fingers  simultaneously  on 
the  inked  slab  and  transfer  them  to  the  paper  in 
spaces  ruled  out  below  those  which  contained 
the  other  marks,  and,  below  these  again,  the 
simultaneous  print  of  the  tips  of  the  fingers  of 
my  left  hand.  Then  the  form  was  turned  over, 
and  I  was  directed  to  sign  my  name  and 
immediately  afterwards  make  the  print  of  the 
tip  of  my  right  forefinger  by  the  side  of  the 
signature.     This  is  a  correct  account  of  the  way 


IDENTIFICATION  75 

in  which  my  finger-prints  were  taken  immediately 
after  my  arrest  and  again  just  before  my  final 
discharge  from  prison,  though  it  does  not  agree 
with  any  published  accounts  of  finger-printing 
that  I  have  seen,  and  the  prints  made  by  my 
fingers  were  not  of  the  same  shape  as  the  prints 
illustrated  in  the  articles  on  the  subject  that  I 
have  read. 


CHAPTER  IX 
BLACK    MARIA   AGAIN 

ON  the  day  when  I  was  due  to  appear  again 
at  the  police-court  I  was  taken  over  to 
the  reception  ward  just  after  the  bell  rang  at  six 
o'clock,  and  when  I  got  there  I  found  those 
prisoners  who  had  been  wearing  prison  clothing, 
changing  into  their  own  in  the  little  cells  ranged 
along  the  reception  corridor,  while  others  who 
were  already  dressed  in  their  own  clothes  were 
standing  in  line  along  the  corridor. 

When  we  were  all.assembled,  there  was  a  long 
line  of  a  hundred  or  more  men  stretching  from 
one  end  of  the  corridor  to  the  other,  and  a  very 
mixed  lot  we  were.  There  were  men  in  absolute 
rags,  men  in  respectable  working-man's  rig-out, 
men  in  morning  coats  and  billycock  hats,  men  in 
reach-me-down  lounge  suits,  and  men  in  lounge 
suits  bearing  the  stamp  of  Savile  Row  and 
Conduit  Street,  men  in  irreproachable  frock-coat 
suits  and  tall  hats,  and  one  man  in  the  wreck  of  a 
swell  evening-dress  suit. 

76 


BLACK   MARIA  AGAIN  i'] 

There  were  men  whose  faces  bore  the  imprint 
of  great  mental  anguish,  and  other  men  who 
seemed  to  be  taking  the  proceedings  as  a  huge 
joke. 

As  soon  as  the  line  was  properly  formed,  the 
order  "  pull  up  your  trousers  and  waistcoats  "  was 
bellowed  out  by  three  or  four  officers  at  the  same 
time.  Then  a  warder  passed  along  the  line  with 
a  lighted  taper  in  his  hand,  and  closely  inspected 
the  socks  and  underclothing  each  man  was 
wearing  to  make  sure  that  none  of  the  thieves 
were  exercising  their  profession  on  the  prison 
underclothing ;  the  men  who  had  been  wearing 
their  own  clothing,  and  never  having  had  posses- 
sion of  any  garments  belonging  to  the  prison, 
being  examined  the  same  as  the  others. 

Then  breakfast  was  served  out  and  eaten  by 
the  men  as  they  stood  in  their  places,  and  after 
that  the  property  each  man  had  brought  in 
was  handed  to  him  and  his  signature  taken 
for  it. 

The  chief  warder  now  appeared  on  the 
scene,  bearing  in  his  hand  the  blue  commitment 
papers  relating  to  the  prisoners  due  for  court 
that  morning. 

His  particular  job  on  this  occasion  was  to  make 
sure  that  the  men  who  were  leaving  the  prison 


78  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

were  actually  those  named  in  the  commitment 
papers,  and  his  way  of  doing  this  was  to  pass 
down  the  line  and  ask  each  man  his  name  and  the 
offence  with  which  he  was  charged,  checking  the 
answers  by  the  commitment  paper. 

On  this  morning  there  was  a  little  foreign- 
looking  man  standing  next  but  one  to  me  in  the 
line.  When  the  chief  warder  came  to  him  and 
asked  his  name,  he  simply  shook  his  head  and 
smiled,  though  I  had  heard  him  speaking  to  the 
man  next  to  me  in  broken  English  not  five  minutes 
before. 

"  What's  your  name,  and  what  are  you  in  for  ?  " 
shouted  the  chief  warder,  as  if  he  were  convinced 
that  English  yelled  is  easier  to  understand  than 
English  spoken. 

The  man  gesticulated  furiously,  shook  his 
head,  and  volubly  declared  in  Italian  that  he  did 
not  understand. 

"  He  can  speak  English  right  enough,"  said  a 
warder.  "  I  expect  that  he's  an  old  hand  at  this 
game." 

"  I  neva  watyoucalla  pinched  before,"  said  the 
Italian  indignantly,  betrayed  into  finding  his 
English. 

"You  understood  him  well  enough  then," 
said  the  chief  warder  chaffingly.    "  Shall  I  ask 


BLACK   MARIA   AGAIN  79 

him  to  ask  you  your  name  and  what   you  are 
in  for?" 

"  Neva  watyoucalla  pinched  before,"  reiter- 
ated the  man  sullenly. 

"Well,  you're  jolly  well  pinched  now,  if  this 
is  your  start,"  said  the  chief  grimly.  "  Forgery 
of  banknotes  for  use  in  the  kingdom  of  Italy,"  is 
what  you're  pinched  for,  and  it  looks  like  keeping 
you  pinched  for  a  few  years." 

"  Eet  ees  my  brothaire ;  'e  do  the  banknote, 
an'  me,  I  get  whatyoucalla  pinched,"  wailed  the 
foreigner. 

"You  can  tell  that  to  the  magistrate — or  the 
marines,"  said  the  chief  warder  as  he  passed  on, 
apparently  satisfied  that  he  had  got  the  man 
named  in  the  commitment  right  enough,  and  that 
it  was  not  worth  while  wasting  any  more  time  in 
trying  to  get  him  to  answer  questions  as  to  his 
name  and  offence, 

I  had  a  ragged-looking  tramp  sort  of  a 
man  on  one  side  of  me,  and  on  the  other  there 
was  standing  a  very  well-dressed  young  man  who 
had  on  a  new  pair  of  patent-leather  boots.  The 
man  with  the  patents  had  a  very  small,  well- 
shaped  foot,  while  the  tramp,  who  was  wearing  a 
pair  of  leaky  crabshells,  would  have  had  to  do  a 
bit  of  squeezing  to  get  his  tootsies  into  a  pair 


8o  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

of  number  twelve-size  bluchers.  The  tramp 
couldn't  take  his  eyes  off  the  dainty  footgear, 
and  after  looking  at  them  longingly  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  he  leaned  over  me  and  said  to 
the  swell — 

"  Yer  'aven't  got  yer  old  boots  ter  give  away, 
'ev  yer,  mister  ?  " 

The  tramp  was  in  deadly  earnest,  but  the 
swell  evidently  thought  he  was  being  chaffed, 
and  answered  very  superciliously. 

"Yer  don't  need  ter  give  yerself  any  airs 
'ere,  mister,"  retorted  the  tramp  in  an  aggrieved 
tone.  "  If  the  King  'isself,  Gord  bless  'im,  was 
a  standing  in  this  'ere  line,  'e  wouldn't  be 
no  better  nor  I  am,  an'  I  don't  b'leeve  as  'e'd 
think  as  'e  was  either.  Tork  about  swells ! 
why,  I've  stood  in  this  'ere  line  with  bigger 
swells  nor  you  ever  knowed  'ow  ter  be.  Why, 
I've  stood  in  this  line  next  ter  Edwards  the 
Bermon'sey  murd'rer,  an'  Chapman,  the  man 
as  was  supposed  ter've  pizzened  about  six 
wives." 

This  settled  the  swell  and  he  retired  hurt. 

When  we  had  been  hanging  about  the 
corridor  for  something  like  two  hours,  our  dinner 
— an  eight-ounce  brown  loaf  with  five  ounces 
of  preserved  meat — was  handed  to  us,  and  we 


BLACK   MARIA   AGAIN  8i 

were  formed  up  in  squads  according  to  the  court 
we  were  for. 

I  found  that  the  swell  with  the  patents  was 
for  Bow  Street  like  myself,  and  as  we  were 
going  out  to  get  into  the  police-van,  he  nudged 
me  and  told  me  to  get  into  one  of  the  cells 
nearest  the  door.  I  thought  that  it  would  be  a 
good  thing  to  get  near  the  door  myself,  as  one 
can  then  see  something  of  what  is  going  on  in 
the  streets  ;  but  as  I  was  appropriating  one  of 
the  cells,  the  sergeant  in  charge  of  the  van 
ordered  me  to  move  further  up.  "  It's  all  right," 
whispered  the  swell  to  the  sergeant,  and  pushed 
me  into  the  cell,  the  sergeant  making  no 
objection. 

When  we  were  outside  the  prison  gates,  the 
sergeant  produced  a  packet  of  cigarettes  and 
a  box  of  matches  and  handed  them  to  the  swell, 
who  politely  passed  them  on  to  me  to  help  my- 
self first.  When  I  had  taken  one  and  lighted  it, 
he  signed  to  me  to  pass  it  out  to  my  next-door 
neighbour,  and  in  this  way  the  cigarettes  and 
the  matches  travelled  all  round  the  van  until 
what  was  left  of  them  came  to  the  owner 
again.  Then  he  selected  one  himself  and 
offered  one  to  the  police  sergeant,  so  that  in 
ten  minutes  time  after  the  van  had  left  the  prison 

G 


82  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

everybody  in  it  was  smoking.  Whether  this 
smoking  in  police-vans  is  against  regulations 
or  not  I  never  inquired ;  but  I  found  it  to  be  a 
common  practice,  and  it  certainly  did  no  harm 
to  anybody. 


CHAPTER  X 
BOW   STREET 

ON  arrival  at  Bow  Street  the  swell  and  my- 
self were  put  into  the  same  cell,  and  with 
us  were  two  men,  a  postman  and  his  brother- 
in-law,  who  were  under  remand  for  extensive 
post-office  robberies.  The  putting  of  these  two 
men  together  in  one  cell  was  a  good  illustration 
of  the  wooden-headed  system  of  dealing  with 
prisoners  when  under  remand.  At  Brixton 
prisoners  who  are  in  the  same  case  are  rigour- 
ously  kept  apart  in  the  prison  itself,  and  no 
prisoner  is  supposed  to  be  allowed  to  address 
even  a  single  word  to  another  prisoner ;  yet 
when  they  are  brought  down  to  the  police  court, 
prisoners  may  talk  with  one  another  as  much  as 
they  please,  and  accomplices  are  even  put 
together,  as  these  two  were,  in  the  same  cell. 
There  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  any  adequate 
reason  why  unconvicted  and  presumably  innocent 
men  should  be  subjected  to  practically  the  same 
rules  at  Brixton  as  govern  convicted  prisoners; 

83 


84  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

but  if  there  is  any  reason  for  the  silent  system 
at  Brixton,  that  reason  should  surely  hold  good 
at  the  police-court.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is 
no  harm  in  prisoners  being  allowed  unrestrained 
communication  at  the  police  court,  what  harm 
could  there  be  in  their  being  allowed  to  talk  to 
one  another  at  Brixton  ? 

The  case  of  this  postman  was  also  an  instance 
of  a  systematic  thief  himself  supplying  the  clue 
that  put  justice  on  his  track.  He  had  been 
looting  letters  for  years,  and  his  method  of 
working  was  so  ingenious  that  it  was  almost  any 
odds  that  he  would  never  have  been  suspected 
even  if  he  hadn't  started  flinging  money  about 
as  if  he  had  the  lease  of  a  private  mint.  This 
was  bound  to  attract  attention  in  the  post- 
office,  as  in  this  service  a  man  who  is  thought  to 
be  spending  more  than  his  official  income  is 
always  an  object  of  suspicion,  and  he  was  closely 
watched,  with  the  result  that  he  and  his  brother- 
in-law,  who  was  not  connected  with  the  post- 
office,  were  found  to  be  the  parties  who  had  been 
baffling  the  post-office  detective  staff  for  many 
years. 

I  couldn't  help  thinking  that  it  was  a  bit  hard 
on  the  brother-in-law,  for  he  had  done  nothing 
to  give  the  game  away,  and  had,  moreover,  often 


BOW  STREET  85 

remonstrated  with  the  other  as  to  the  danger  of 
being  seen  to  be  in  possession  of  money.  From 
their  conversation  when  in  the  cell  with  me 
there  was  no  room  for  doubt  that  it  was  the 
postman  was  the  leading  spirit,  and  that  the 
brother-in-law  had  simply  been  drawn  in  by 
him  owing  to  the  necessity  of  having  some  one 
to  travel  all  over  the  country  to  cash  stolen 
cheques  over  the  counters  of  the  banks  they 
were  drawn  upon.  The  magistrate,  too,  appeared 
to  be  of  the  opinion  that  the  brother-in-law  was 
the  less  guilty  of  the  two,  for  he  admitted  him  to 
bail  eventually,  while  refusing  to  take  bail  for  the 
postman.  The  judge  who  tried  the  case  at  the 
Old  Bailey,  however,  by  some  process  of  reason- 
ing not  easy  to  follow,  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  brother-in-law  was  the  more  guilty  and  gave 
him  six  months  more  than  he  gave  the  postman. 
The  gentleman  with  the  patent-leather  boots 
turned  out  to  be  an  ex-officer  of  yeomanry  who 
had  served  in  South  Africa.  He  had  served 
three  months'  imprisonment  for  obtaining  money 
by  means  of  a  worthless  cheque,  and  had  been 
met  on  his  discharge  from  prison  by  a  detective 
who  had  arrested  him  upon  another  charge  of  the 
same  nature.  The  circumstances  in  each  case 
were  exactly  similar:  he  had  a  banking  account. 


S6  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

but  there  was  not  sufficient  credit  in  it  to  meet 
either  of  the  cheques,  for  which  he  had  obtained 
actual  cash.  The  Bow  Street  magistrate  held 
that  there  was  not  sufficient  evidence  of  criminal 
intent,  although  he  knew  that  another  magistrate 
had  convicted  him  under  circumstances  exactly 
parallel,  and  he  was  discharged  after  being  kept 
in  Brixton  without  bail  for  a  fortnight.  Which 
magistrate  was  right — the  one  who  convicted  him 
or  the  one  who  discharged  him?  The  whole 
thing  was  a  lottery  in  which  he  drew  one  prize 
and  one  blank. 

He  was  a  good  sort,  was  this  ex-yeomanry 
officer.  Amid  the  surprise  at  his  release,  which 
was  totally  unexpected — how  could  he  expect  it 
when  he  had  been  convicted  before  in  a  case 
exactly  similar  ? — and  the  congratulations  of  his 
friends,  he  found  time  to  think  of  me,  and  came 
back  to  the  cell  as  a  visitor  bringing  a  huge  pork- 
pie,  a  large  bottle  of  Bass,  a  packet  of  cigarettes, 
a  box  of  matches,  and  half  a  sovereign  which  he 
pressed  upon  me  as  a  loan.  He  quite  forgot  to 
give  any  address,  and  I  never  knew  his  name,  so 
that  half-sovereign  remains  on  loan  to  this  very 
day.  I  have  a  kindly  feeling  in  my  heart  for  that 
ex-yeomanry  officer,  and  would  think  it  a  great 
bit  of  luck  to  find  myself  at  his  elbow  some  time 


BOW  STREET  S7 

when  he  was  feeling  that  he  was  greatly  in  need 
of  a  friend. 

I  was  alone  in  the  cell  when  he  brought  me 
these  things,  so  there  was  nobody  to  share  them 
with.  The  beer  presented  no  difficulty,  and  it 
would  be  easy  to  get  rid  of  the  cigarettes  in  the 
van  going  back  to  Brixton ;  but  having  just 
finished  my  brown  bread  and  preserved  meat,  I 
was  not  then  in  a  humour  to  attack  the  pork-pie, 
and  decided  to  keep  it  for  supper  when  I  got  to 
Brixton. 

As  all  sorts  of  eatables  are  allowed  to  be  sent 
into  the  prison  for  the  consumption  of  prisoners, 
it  never  entered  my  head  that  any  objection 
would  be  made  to  the  pie ;  but  I  was  mistaken, 
and  when  I  got  to  the  search-room  that  evening 
I  was  given  the  option  of  standing  there,  naked 
as  I  was,  and  eating  it  then  or  leaving  it  behind 
me.  I  left  it  behind  me,  hoping  that  it  would 
make  the  warders  ill. 

These  long  court  days— there  was  an  interval 
of  about  fourteen  hours  between  our  leaving  our 
cells  in  the  morning  and  getting  back  to  them  at 
night— are  very  trying,  and  the  having  to  go 
through  all  the  formalities  on  readmission,  just 
the  same  as  a  new  comer,  seems  to  be  just 
wanton  red-tape  and  nothing  less.     I  had  six  of 


88  A   HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

these  days  during  my  police  court  purgatory,  and 
I  look  back  upon  them  as  the  six  worst  days  in 
my  whole  period  of  imprisonment. 

I  was  sent  back  to  hospital  again  on  this 
occasion,  and  also  on  the  next ;  but  when  I  was 
returned  to  Brixton  on  my  fourth  remand,  I  was 
put  in  the  general  prison,  in  the  "  B,"  or  old, 
block,  which  used  to  form  part  of  the  old  military 
prison. 

While  I  was  in  the  hospital  the  principal 
warder  in  charge  there  remonstrated  with  me 
very  earnestly,  but  very  suavely,  on  what  he 
called  my  beastly  habit  of  washing  myself  in  the 
dinner-time  as  well  as  in  the  morning.  It  spoiled 
the  look  of  the  tin  washbowl  for  the  rest  of  the 
day,  he  said,  and  seriously  affected  his  reputation 
for  keeping  a  clean  and  tidy  hospital.  He  was  a 
very  nice  chap  was  that  principal  warder,  and  I 
hated  to  cause  him  pain,  so  I  did  without  my 
middle-day  wash  after  this  while  I  remained  in 
hospital ;  but  I  reverted  to  the  bad  habit  when 
I  got  into  the  prison  proper,  and  even  per- 
sisted in  it  during  the  whole  term  of  my  sentence 
without  any  other  warder  taking  exception  to  it. 


CHAPTER  XI 
REMAND    DIET 

A  PRISONER  on  remand  or  awaiting  trial 
may  provide  his  own  food  if  he  likes,  and 
a  warder  goes  round  the  cells  every  morning  to 
take  the  names  of  those  who  wish  to  purchase 
food  and  newspapers.  No  money  passes  on 
these  occasions,  for  a  prisoner's  money  is  taken 
from  him  on  entrance,  but  the  prisoner  signs  a 
form  authorizing  the  governor  to  take  the  amount 
from  the  sum  belonging  to  the  prisoner  in  his 
hands.  The  same  procedure  is  adopted  when  a 
prisoner  desires  a  shave,  the  charge  for  which  is 
threepence — an  outside  barber  attending  in  the 
prison  every  morning  for  the  purpose  of  shaving 
and  cutting  the  hair  of  any  prisoners  who  desire 
his  services.  The  morning  newspapers  are  not 
served  out  to  the  prisoners  until  after  dinner, 
though  why  this  delay  should  be  a  matter  of 
regulation  I  cannot  imagine. 

I  didn't  buy  any  food  when  in  the  prison — in 
fact,  it  is  only  a  small  number  of  the  prisoners 

89 


90  A  HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

who  do — and  after  leaving  the  hospital  I  was  on 
ordinary  prison  diet,  the  same  as  is  given  to 
debtors  and  men  serving  sentences  in  the  second 
division.  This  diet  consists  of— Breakfast : 
an  eight-ounce  brown  loaf  and  a  pint  of  tea. 
Supper:  an  eight-ounce  brown  loaf  and  a  pint 
of  good  ship's  cocoa  with  a  layer  of  oil  floating  on 
top  of  it.  Dinner  on  Mondays  :  two  ounces  of 
bacon  fat,  ten  ounces  of  haricot  beans  that  have 
been  boiled  with  the  bacon,  six  ounces  brown 
bread,  and  twelve  ounces  potatoes  boiled  in  their 
jackets.  Dinner  on  Tuesdays  and  Fridays  :  a 
pint  of  excellent  pea-soup,  bread  and  potatoes  as 
before.  Dinner  on  Wednesdays  and  Saturdays  : 
twelve  ounces  plain  suet  pudding,  made  of  brown 
flour,  potatoes  and  bread  as  before.  Dinner  on 
Thursdays  :  five  ounces  of  boiled  fresh  beef  with 
about  a  quarter  of  a  pint  of  the  liquor  it  was 
boiled  in,  bread  and  potatoes  as  before.  Dinner 
on  Sundays :  five  ounces  preserved  meat,  bread 
and  potatoes  as  before.  Jews  are  given  preserved 
meat  on  Mondays  also. 

This  diet  does  not  err  on  the  side  of  luxury, 
and  few  people  get  used  to  it  during  their  stay 
at  Brixton  if  they  happen  to  be  making  their 
first  acquaintance  with  it;  but  it  is  whole- 
some enough,  and   I   managed    to    eat  what    I 


REMAND   DIET  91 

wanted  of  it  without  feeling  that  I  was  doing 
anything  more  unpleasant  than  roughing  it  a  bit. 
A  prisoner  on  remand  or  awaiting  trial  may 
write  one  letter  every  day  that  Government  will 
pay  the  postage  of,  and  he  may  send  as  many 
more  as  he  likes  provided  that  he  either  pays 
the  postage  himself  or  is  willing  for  them  to  be 
posted  unstamped.  There  is  no  restriction  on 
the  number  of  letters  he  may  receive.  Every 
letter,  whether  going  out  or  coming  in,  is  read  by 
the  prison  authorities,  and  in  many  cases  copies 
of  them  are  taken  and  supplied  to  the  pro- 
secution. This  was  done  in  my  case,  and  it 
appeared  to  me  to  be  a  glaringly  unfair  pro- 
ceeding, because  the  police  were  thereby  made 
acquainted  with  every  step  I  was  taking  in  my 
defence,  and  the  not  over-scrupulous  detectives 
were  able,  in  two  cases  at  least,  to  influence 
people  whom  I  had  asked  to  give  evidence  in  my 
behalf  to  give  evidence  against  me.  A  prisoner 
is  not  allowed  to  write  any  letter  upon  any 
other  paper  than  that  bearing  the  usual  official 
heading. 

Prisoners  at  Brixton  may  be  visited  any 
afternoon  except  Saturday  and  Sunday,  the 
interviews  taking  place  in  compartments  divided 
in  the  centre  by  a  strong  wire  netting  through 


92  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

which  it  is  impossible  to  pass  any  article,  how- 
ever small.  For  interviews  with  solicitors  there 
are  special  rooms  where  prisoner  and  solicitor 
can  discuss  their  business  seated  opposite  one 
another  at  a  table.  Even  here  they  are  over- 
looked by  a  warder,  for  the  upper  parts  of  these 
interview-rooms  are  of  glass ;  but  he  cannot 
hear  the  conversation.  A  solicitor  succeeded  in 
getting  an  interview  with  me  in  one  of  these 
rooms  for  the  purpose  of  dunning  me  for  an' 
account  owing  to  a  client  of  his,  which  goes  to 
show  that  the  authorities  are  not  so  careful  as 
might  be  expected. 

In  the  older  part  of  Brixton  prison  the  cells 
and  the  cell  furniture  are  exactly  the  same  as  in 
an  ordinary  prison ;  but  in  the  new  part  the  cell 
windows  are  larger  and  are  not  placed  too  high 
up  for  one  to  stand  at  and  look  out ;  indeed,  on 
one  side  of  the  top   floor  of  this   new  block   a 
prisoner  can  stand  at  the  window  and  see  what 
is  going  on  in  the  streets  beyond  the  walls.     It  is 
in  this  part  of  the  prison  that  the  majority  of  the 
"  private  cells  "  are  situated,  for  the  use  of  which 
prisoners  pay  half  a  crown  a  week.     The  differ- 
ence only  consists   in  the  cell  being  furnished 
with  a  chair,  a  table,  a  strip  of  matting,  and  a 
washstand  ;   but  the  occupant  of  a  private  cell 


REMAND   DIET  93 

does  not  have  to  do  his  own  cleaning,  which  is 
done  for  him  by  one  of  the  other  prisoners.  All 
the  cells  in  the  new  block  have  spring  mattresses 
which  fold  up  against  the  wall  in  the  day-time, 
while  in  the  old  block  the  bed  is  the  ordinary 
prison  plank  and  coir-fibre  mattress.  The  cells 
in  the  new  part  are  altogether  more  desirable 
and  comfortable  than  the  old  ones,  and  prisoners 
consider  themselves  favoured  if  they  are  posted 
to  them.  I  had  to  thank  Dr.  Scott  for  getting 
there  myself  The  principal  w^arder  had  put  me 
in  one  of  the  least  desirable  cells  on  the  ground 
floor  of  the  old  block,  where  Dr.  Scott  found  me 
next  morning  when  he  looked  me  up  to  ask  me 
how  I  was,  and  promptly  ordered  my  removal  to 
the  new  block. 

I  have  given  these  minute  particulars  about 
life  in  Brixton  because  I  do  not  think  they  have 
ever  appeared  in  print  before,  and  are  of  con- 
siderable public  interest. 

During  my  stay  at  Brixton  I  formed  the  opinion 
that  remanded  prisoners  are  treated  with  quite  an 
unnecessary  amount  of  severity.  The  discipline 
is  so  strict  as  to  amount  to  a  considerable  punish- 
ment— as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  felt  more  uncomfort- 
able while  I  was  in  the  prison  proper  at  Brixton 
than  I  did  at  any  time  when  I  was  serving  my 


94  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

sentence — and  it  appears  to  me  that  there  is  no 
justification  for  punishing  men  who  are  innocent 
in  the  eyes  of  the  law.  Further — and  this  is  an 
even  more  serious  matter — the  restrictions  con- 
siderably hamper  a  prisoner  in  the  preparation 
of  his  defence  and  add  enormously  to  the  unfair 
advantages  possessed  and  taken  by  the  public 
prosecutor. 


CHAPTER  XII 
EN   ROUTE   FOR  THE  OLD   BAILEY 

THERE  was  an  air  of  satisfaction,  almost 
of  gaiety  even,  about  almost  every  one 
of  the  eighty  or  ninety  prisoners  who  were 
assembled  in  one  of  the  corridors  of  the  prison 
at  Brixton  on  the  Monday  morning  fixed  for  the 
opening  of  the  Old  Bailey  Sessions  at  which  I 
was  tried.  Everybody  seemed  to  be  glad  that 
the  long  period  of  suspense  was  approaching  its 
end  and  that  in  a  few  more  hours  the  process 
of  expiation  would  commence.  One  m.an  in  the 
crowd,  in  default  of  something  like  a  miracle 
being  worked  in  his  favour,  had  only  a  matter  of 
three  weeks  to  live,  and  was  aware  of  it;  yet 
this  murderer,  whose  guilt  was  patent  and  whose 
condemnation  was  certain,  had  a  smile  on  his 
face  as  he  furtively  chatted  with  the  man  stand- 
ing next  to  him,  and  to  look  at  him  one  would 
imagine  that  he  had  nothing  on  his  mind  more 
serious  than  the  little  worries  that  fall  to  the  lot 
of  the  luckiest  of  us. 

95 


96  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

He  was  not  the  only  murderer  there.  There 
was  another  one,  a  miserable  undersized  man, 
who  had  murdered  his  own  two  little  boys  for 
no  better  reason  than  that  he  was  out  of  work. 
This  murderer  was  light-hearted  even  to  hilarity, 
and  was  several  times  checked  by  the  warder 
for  laughing  loudly.  The  jury  in  his  case 
found  that  he  was  of  unsound  mind,  and  in  all 
likelihood  this  was  a  right  and  proper  verdict; 
for  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  a  sane  man  would 
kill  his  own  little  children  of  whom  he  was  very 
fond.  He  was,  however,  arguing  very  sanely 
about  money  matters  with  the  warder  who  had 
charge  of  this  department  on  the  last  occasion 
of  my  seeing  him. 

Standing  next  to  me  was  a  solicitor  who  had 
sold  some  houses  belonging  to  a  widow  woman 
without  her  authority,  and  stuck  to  the  proceeds. 
I  asked  him  how  he  expected  to  come  out  of  the 
affair,  and  he  answered  laconically  :  "  Five  years." 
I  thought  he  deserved  all  that,  but  I  was  not 
rude  enough  to  tell  him  so.  "  I  might  have  got 
off  with  three,"  he  said,  "but  my  case  is  in  the 
judge's  list,  and  the  judge  is  Phillimore,  who  is 
certain  to  give  me  every  day  I  am  entitled  to." 

"  How  much  do  you  think  I'll  get?"  I  asked. 
"  You've  read  my  case,  haven't  you  ?  " 


EN   ROUTE   FOR  THE  OLD   BAILEY    97 

"  They  don't  seem  to  have  much  of  a  case 
against  you  as  far  as  I  can  see,"  he  rejoined, 
"and  I  should  say  that  you've  got  a  good  chance 
of  getting  off." 

"What  about  me?"  asked  a  smart-looking 
sailor-like  man,  who  was  standing  on  my  other 
hand.  "  I'm  in  for  that  railway  robbery,  you 
know." 

"Twenty  years  will  be  your  dose  for  a  cert," 
said  the  solicitor. 

"That's  what  I'm  expecting,"  said  the  sailor 
simpl3^  "  It'll  be  about  the  softest  twenty  years 
that  has  ever  been  earned,"  he  continued  after  a 
pause.  "  I'd  no  more  idea  of  robbing  anybody 
when  I  got  into  that  train  than  I  had  of  cutting 
my  throat,  and  I'm  not  one  of  the  sort  to  cut 
my  throat  either.  But  I  was  broke  to  the  world, 
and  I  couldn't  stand  the  sight  of  that  ship's  cable 
watchchain  of  his.  If  he'd  have  let  me  have  the 
chain  he  wouldn't  have  been  hurt ;  but  the  silly 
fool  put  up  a  fight,  and  then  I  bashed  him  with- 
out exactly  knowing  what  I  was  doing." 

"That's  the  trouble  with  us  all — doing  things 
without  thinking,"  said  the  solicitor  drily. 
"  There's  precious  few  of  this  lot  would  be 
standing  here  now,  waiting  for  the  Black  Maria, 
who  would  be  here  if  we'd  thought  about  what 

H 


98  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GOAL 

we  were  about  to  do  before  we  did  it.  All  the 
gaols  are  full  of  people  who  won't  look  ahead." 

"  I'll  bet  they  learn  to  look  ahead  quick 
enough  when  they  get  there,"  said  the  sailor. 
"  I  know  I  shall." 

"  I've  been  looking  ahead  already,"  remarked 
the  man  on  the  other  side  of  the  solicitor,  "  I've 
paid  back  the  eleven  hundred  pounds  they  say 
I've  no  right  to,  though  in  taking  it  I  was  only 
doing  what  people  before  me  did." 

This  man  was  an  official  of  the  City  of  London 
Corporation,  and  his  off'ence  was  the  obtaining 
of  money  from  contractors  by  false  represen- 
tations. 

"  I  think  that  I'd  have  stuck  to  that  money," 
said  the  solicitor.  "  I  hope  that  you  won't  be 
sorry  for  parting  with  it,  but  I  expect  you  will 
be.  I  don't  suppose  that  you'd  have  got  more 
than  six  months  in  the  second  division  if  you'd 
have  stuck  to  the  lot,  and  you'll  hardly  get  less 
now." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  official 
confidently ;  "  a  detective-sergeant  came  up  here 
to  me  the  other  day  and  told  me  that  I'd  be  let 
down  very  easy  indeed  if  the  money  was  paid 
back,  though  he  owned  that  he  wasn't  authorised 
to  tell  me  so." 


EN   ROUTE   FOR  THE  OLD   BAILEY      99 

"  You'll  know  better  presently  than  to  believe 
what  a  detective  tells  you  in  circumstances  like 
that,"  said  the  solicitor  grimly.  "  I  expect  that 
you'll  be  handicapping  that  detective  to  give 
Ananias  a  stone  before  the  week's  out." 

I  didn't  hear  any  more  of  the  conversation,  as 
a  warder  came  up  and  told  me  to  join  a  group 
standing  some  distance  away.  This  lot  stood 
still  while  the  other  prisoners  were  strung 
together  in  batches,  by  very  bright  chains  pass- 
ing through  handcuffs,  and  stowed  away  in 
covered  wagonettes.  There  was  no  necessity 
to  handcuff  and  chain  my  batch  as  we  had  been 
selected  to  go  down  in  the  two  Black  Marias. 

Standing  by  the  steps  of  the  prison-van 
to  see  us  safely  inside  was  the  comfortable- 
looking  chief  warder,  who  literally  beamed  on 
us  after  the  manner  of  the  landlord  of  an 
hotel  when  seeing  off  some  particularly  dis- 
tinguished and  satisfactory  customer. 

As  I  stepped  past  him  I  carried  the  hotel 
parallel  a  bit  further  by  thanking  him,  as 
gracefully  as  I  knew  how,  for  his  kindness  and 
courtesy  to  me  whilst  I  had  been  under  his 
charge,  and  he  acknowledged  my  thanks  by  a 
bow  and  a  smile  that  suggested  that  he  con- 
sidered my  remarks  a  condescension  on  my  part 


100  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

and  was  grateful.  He  was  a  most  courtier-like 
and  urbane  gentleman^was  that  chief  warder,  and 
I  could  fancy  him,  in  his  previous  position  at 
Newgate,  metaphorically  strewing  the  pathway 
to  the  scaffold  with  roses. 

I  only  once  asked  him  a  favour,  and  then  1 
got  a  refusal,  but  the  refusal  was  so  charmingly 
conveyed  that  I  left  his  office  with  the  distinct 
feeling  that  I  was  under  a  great  obligation  to  him. 
It  was  only  a  small  favour  that  1  was  asking 
of  him,  and  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  it  was 
a  case  of  couldn't  and  not  wouldn't ;  but  when 
he  told  me  that  he  couldn't  grant  it  I  implicitly 
believed  him,  and  felt  sorry  for  him  on  account 
of  his  so  much  wanting  to  grant  the  favour  and 
not  being  able  to  do  it.  He  was  acting-governor 
at  Brixton  when  the  time  approached  for  my 
trial  at  the  Central  Criminal  Court,  and  as  my 
boots  had  not  been  cleaned  for  six  weeks,  I 
made  an  official  application  to  him  to  either 
allow  me  to  have  a  set  of  boot-brushes  sent  in 
or  to  have  a  set  lent  me  from  the  prison  stores 
so  that  I  could  put  a  shine  on  my  boots  for  my 
trial. 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  want  clean  boots  at 
your  trial  for?"  he  asked  in  a  surprised  tone. 
"Nobody  will  be  able  to  see  your  feet  as  you 


EN   ROUTE  FOR  THE  OLD   BAILEY    loi 

stand  in  the  dock— it's  not  a  railed  dock  at  the 
Old  Bailey." 

I  explained  that  it  made  no  difference  that 
my  feet  could  not  be  seen :  it  was  not  for  the 
look  that  I  wanted  clean  boots  but  for  the  feel. 
Any  man  can  feel,  I  told  him,  that  he  has  got 
dirty  boots  on,  even  if  he  cannot  see  them  at  all, 
and  that  sort  of  feeling  is  utterly  destructive  of 
all  self-confidence,  as  it  carries  conviction  to  the 
mind  of  the  feeler  that  he  is  only  a  poor  sort 
of  creature.  How  did  he  expect,  I  asked,  that  I 
could  conduct  my  defence  properly  if  he  sent 
me  to  court  with  dirty  boots. 

I  don't  suppose  that  he  had  ever  known  what 
it  was  to  wear  a  pair  of  dirty  boots,  and  so  he 
can  hardly  have  understood  my  feelings  ;  but  he 
was  very  sympathetic  for  all  that  and  expressed 
his  regret  that  I  had  not  thought  to  raise  the 
question  a  month  previously  when  I  might  have 
petitioned  the  Home  Secretary  to  allow  me  to 
have  my  boots  blacked.  Unfortunately  the 
regulations  did  not  say  anything  about  boot- 
brushes,  and  so  he  was  powerless  to  help  me, 
much  as  he  would  like  to  do  so.  Did  I  think 
that  dubbing  would  serve  my  purpose  ? 

I  shook  my  head  dejectedly,  and  he  dismissed 
me  with  a  sigh  of  sympathy. 


102  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

The  chief  warder  would  probably  consider 
this  boot-brush  episode  somewhat  overdrawn, 
and  very  likely  it  is  so,  if  the  incident  be  looked 
at  from  the  chief  warder's  point  of  view ;  but 
from  my  point  of  view  it  is  absolutely  true  to 
actual  fact.  I  did  appear  at  the  Central  Criminal 
Court  in  boots  that  had  not  been  cleaned  for 
something  like  seven  weeks,  and  I  ascribe  my 
hang-dog  appearance  in  the  dock  to  this  cause 
and  not  to  the  workings  of  a  guilty  conscience. 
But  let  me  get  on  with  the  main  story. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  OLD  BAILEY  CELLS 

WHEN  the  vans  had  driven  into  the  court- 
yard of  the  Old  Bailey— I  was  tried  at 
the  old  building — and  the  gates  were  securely 
fastened  behind  them,  we  were  let  out  and 
shepherded  into  a  number  of  boxes  in  the  base- 
ment. These  waiting-cells  were  apparently 
designed  for  the  accommodation  of  one  person 
only,  but  two  or  three  prisoners  were  put  into 
each.  The  cells  were  so  extremely  dirty  and  the 
dust  lay  so  thickly  all  over  them  that  I  formed 
the  opinion  that  they  could  not  have  been  cleaned 
for  many  months  at  least. 

I  had  two  companions  in  my  cell,  both  of  them 
burglars  and  in  for  the  same  job.  Anybody 
more  unlike  the  "cracksman"  as  he  is  pictured 
in  the  public  mind  it  would  be  impossible  to 
imagine. 

If  there  is  anything  in  the  theories  put 
forward  by  criminologists  of  the  Lombroso  type 
they  ought  to  have  looked  forbidding  at  least ; 

103 


104  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

but  they  were  quite  nice  and  innocent-looking 
persons,  whose  faces  would  have  added  to  the 
respectable  appearance  of  any  assemblage  of  the 
minor  clergy.  And  they  had  both  of  them  had 
plenty  of  experience  that  ought  to  have  left  the 
stamp  of  crime  upon  their  features,  if  there  be 
any  such  stamp  in  real  life,  for  both  of  them  had 
previously  served  terms  of  penal  servitude  for 
the  same  class  of  oifence,  and  frankly  admitted 
that  they  had  been  thieves  of  sorts  from  their 
earliest  boyhood. 

The  elder  of  them — he  could  hardly  been  more 
than  thirty,  I  thought — had  a  pair  of  velvety 
brown  eyes,  in  the  depths  of  which  I  could  read 
nothing  but  truth,  honesty,  and  good-fellowship 
as  they  looked  straight  and  unashamed  into 
mine.  I  asked  myself  whether  a  man  like  this 
could  possibly  be  a  thief  by  nature,  and  I  quickly 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  not  innate 
depravity  but  his  education  and  his  surroundings 
that  had  made  him  what  he  was. 

"You  don't  look  at  all  like  my  idea  of  a 
burglar,"  I  remarked. 

"  Don't  I  ?"  he  said,  showing  a  perfect  set  of 
white  teeth  in  a  genial  grin.  "  What  should  you 
take  me  for  then  :  a  parson  out  of  uniform  or  a 
bank  manager?" 


THE  OLD   BAILEY  CELLS  105 

"  You  certainly  wouldn't  make  a  bad-looking 
clergyman  if  you  dressed  the  part,"  said  I ;  "but 
tell  me,  how  did  you  come  to  drift  into  this  sort 
of  game?" 

"  Didn't  drift  into  it  at  all,  I  was  brought  up 
to  it.  My  old  man  was  in  the  line  and  he  learned 
me  the  trade.  My  mate  here  'drifted'  into  it 
the  same  wzy." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  of  a  trade,"  I 
retorted,  "if  nobody  does  any  better  at  it  than 
you  two  seem  to  have  done." 

"  It's  a  dead  cert  that  it  ain't  what  it  useter 
be,  mister,"  he  replied. 

"  Police  smarter  than  they  used  to  be,  eh  ?" 
"  Oh,  it  ain't  the  police,  bless  ye!  They  ain't 
learnt  much  since  the  days  of  Jonathan  Wild 
in  the  way  of  interferin'  with  screwsmen  when 
they're  actually  at  work.  What  beats  the  game 
now  is  the  perishin' hardship  of  gettin'  rid  of  the 
stuff  after  you've  bagged  it.  I've  never  been 
copped  on  the  job  yet,  and  ain't  much  afraid  as  I 
ever  shall  be.  Every  time  as  I've  been  pinched 
I've  been  rounded  on  by  somebody  over  the 
making  away  with  the  loot.  There  ain't  no  real 
dependable  fences  nowadays  like  there  used 
to  be,  and  them  as  arc  open  don't  want  to 
touch  anythin'  but 'sparks'  (precious  stones)  and 


io6  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

meltin'  pot  stuff.  In  my  old  man's  time  it  was 
easy  enough  to  find  a  market  for  a  most  anythin' 
as  you  could  pick  up,  but  you  can  hardly  place 
anythin'  now  if  it  can  be  swore  to." 

This  interesting  conversation  was  put  an 
end  to  by  a  warder  banging  open  the  door  and 
inviting  me  to  come  outside  with  the  remark 
that  I  would  be  learning  enough  to  get  me  a 
lagging  at  some  future  time  if  I  stayed  there 
much  longer. 

"  All  right,  stand  there  with  your  face  to  the 
wall,"  he  said,  as  I  was  following  him  on  the 
supposition  that  he  was  going  to  place  me  in 
another  cell. 

I  stood  with  my  toes  close  to  the  wall  and 
my  nose  almost  touching  the  grimy  whitewash 
while  he  crept  from  door  to  door  and  listened  to 
the  conversation  going  on  inside  the  cells. 
Whether  he  was  doing  this  out  of  mere  curiosity 
or  on  the  hunt  for  evidence,  I  don't  know ;  but 
it  presently  appeared  that  the  talk  in  my  cell 
was  not  the  reason  for  my  being  fetched  out,  as 
another  warder  came  along  and  took  me  to  a 
room  where  I  found  the  detective  sergeant  in 
charge  of  my  case. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

AN    UNEXPECTED   CHARGE 

"  TT  ERE  is  a  statement  of  additional  evidence 
XX  we  are  going  to  call,"  said  the  sergeant 
cheerfully,  as  he  handed  me  a  sheet  of  blue  fools- 
cap. "  I  wish  you  well,  as  you  know,  and  if 
you  will  let  me  give  you  a  tip  that  will  do  you 
some  good  you  will  plead  "  Guilty."  I'll  say 
what  I  can  for  you,  and  I  reckon  that  you  won't 
get  half  the  dose  that'll  be  served  out  to  you  if 
you  are  found  "  Guilty  "  by  the  jury. 

"  But  I  don't  think  that  I  shall  be  found 
'  Guilty,'"  I  retorted. 

"Well,  I  hope  you  won't ;  but  I'm  sure  you 
will,"  he  rejoined  coolly.  "  We've  got  a  second 
string  in  the  shape  of  charges  under  the  Bank- 
ruptcy Act  in  respect  of  Grey  and  Green's  debts, 
if  you  should  happen  to  wriggle  out  of  the  charge 
you  were  arrested  on." 

This  was  the  first  I  had  heard  of  any  charge 
other  than  that  on  which  I  had  been  arrested  and 
formally  committed  for  trial,  and  for  the  moment 

107 


io8  A  HOLIDAY   IN    GAOL 

I  could  hardly  believe  that  he  was  speaking  the 
truth.  It  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  utterly  impos- 
sible thing  that  English  justice  could  permit  of  a 
man  being  brought  to  face  a  charge  of  which  he 
had  been  given  no  intimation  until  the  very 
moment  he  was  called  upon  to  plead  to  it. 
How  in  the  name  of  common  fairness  could  I 
hope  to  rebut  such  a  charge?  It  must  seem 
incredible  to  all  fair-minded  men  who  are  not 
lawyers  that  the  public  prosecutor  would  take 
such  an  unfair  advantage  of  a  prisoner  as  to 
indict  him,  without  his  knowledge,  for  a  crime 
that  was  not  specifically  brought  against  him 
during  the  police  court  investigation.  And  the 
judge  assured  me  that  it  is  perfectly  legal  to 
do  this,  and,  on  learning  that  my  bankruptcy  had 
been  proved  at  the  police  court,  overruled  my 
objection  to  the  charges.  The  appearance  of  in- 
justice was  further  heightened  by  the  fact  that 
neither  of  the  nominal  prosecutors  in  these 
cases  preferred  any  complaint  against  me,  and 
their  evidence  at  the  police  court  was  distinctly 
favourable  to  me.  The  public  prosecutor, 
however,  subpoena'd  them  to  attend  the  Old 
Baiie}'^,  where  they  again  stated  that  they  did  not 
wish  to  bring  any  charge  against  me,  though 
they   admitted,    in    reply    to    the    prosecuting 


AN    UNEXPECTED  CHARGE        109 

counsel,  that  I  had  not  specifically  informed 
them  that  I  was  an  undischarged  bankrupt 
before  obtaining  credit  from  them.  In  cross- 
examination  by  me  they  expressed  the  opinion 
that  I  would  have  paid  them  if  I  had  been  let 
alone,  and  that  they  still  thought  that  I  would 
pay  them  at  some  future  time.  I  was  proceeding 
with  the  cross-examination  on  these  lines  when 
the  judge  interrupted  me  to  say  that  it  would  not 
be  any  answer  to  the  charge  if  I  could  prove 
that  I  had  already  paid  them  :  once  the  offence 
was  committed  it  remained  an  offence,  whether 
the  debt  was  liquidated  or  not. 

It  was  on  these  two  charges  that  I  was 
eventually  convicted,  the  charge  on  which  I  was 
originally  arrested  failing  utterly.  Yes,  I  served 
eighteen  months'  imprisonment  for  wTongs  done 
to  two  men  who  didn't  think  that  I  had  wronged 
them  at  all  until  my  assets  were  destroyed  by 
the  prosecution  and  I  was  thus  prevented  from 
paying  them  the  money  due  to  them.  It  is  very 
probable  that  had  I  been  given  notice  of  the 
charge  I  might  have  brought  evidence  which 
would  have  prevented  the  jury  convicting  me 
at  all. 

Had  I  been  financially  strong  enough  to  have 
obtained  the  assistance  of  solicitor  and  counsel, 


no  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

it  is  possible  that  a  copy  of  tiie  indictment  would 
have  been  furnished  to  them  before  the  day  ol 
trial — indeed,  there  may  be  some  way  in  which  a 
prisoner  can  get  a  copy  himself  if  he  knows  the 
ropes ;  but  I  was  compelled  to  defend  myself 
because  the  police  had  taken  possession  of  all  my 
assets,  and  I  knew  nothing  of  the  procedure  of 
the  courts.  Surely,  in  common  fairness,  every 
prisoner  should  be  supplied  with  a  copy  of  the 
indictment  so  that  he  may  know,  some  days 
in  advance  of  his  trial,  what  are  the  charges  he 
has  to  meet. 

Let  me  say,  right  here,  that  I  am  not  whin- 
ing about  my  sentence,  though  I  have  doubts  as 
to  the  even-handedness  of  the  justice  that  metes 
out  to  a  man  in  my  position,  convicted  for  the 
first  time  of  the  most  venial  of  misdemeanours, 
the  same  punishment  as  is  commonly  awarded 
on  a  second  conviction  for  burglary.  I  must 
admit  that  when  all  has  been  said  in  my  favour 
that  can  be  said,  even  by  myself,  the  fact  remains 
that  I  was  certainly  guilty  of  criminal  carelessness 
in  dealing  with  other  people's  money,  as  well  as 
with  my  own,  and  that  I  cannot  truthfully  say  that 
I  did  not  morally  merit  all  the  punishment  that 
came  my  way — even  if  the  punishment  had  been 
real  and  not  farcical. 


CHAPTER  XV 
MY    PREDECESSORS 

I  HAVE  anticipated  somewhat  by  discussing 
my  trial  and  sentence  before  being  called 
upon  to  plead,  but  the  remarks  fit  in  better  after 
the  interview  with  the  detective  than  they  would 
if  put  in  their  natural  order. 

When  I  got  back  to  the  cells  after  my  inter- 
view with  the  detective,  I  found  all  the  prisoners 
standing  in  line  and  being  told  off  into  batches 
according  to  the  courts  in  which  they  were  to  be 
tried. 

After  this  sorting  out  had  been  completed,  we 
were  taken  upstairs  to  other  cells  large  enough 
to  contain  a  dozen  or  more  prisoners  each.  These 
cells  had  chalked  on  the  doors  the  name  of  the 
court  in  which  the  inmates  were  to  be  tried,  thus  : 
"New  Court  ""Old  Court"  "Third  Court"  and 

"  Fourth  Court." 

I  found  myself  in  the  cell  marked  "Third 
Court,"  in  company  with  thirteen  others.  I  had 
not  spoken  to  anyone  of  the  thirteen  previously, 

III 


112  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

nor  noticed  any  of  them  at  Brixton,  but  in  five 
minutes  after  being  locked  up  together  we  were 
all  chatting  away  as  if  we  were  old  acquaintances. 
The  first  question  that  one  prisoner  asks  another 
at  Brixton,  or  anywhere  else  where  they  may 
chance  to  meet  before  trial,  is:  "What  are  you 
in  for?"  After  sentence,  this  question  comes 
second,  if  asked  at  all,  giving  place  to  :  "  What 
are  you  doing?"  When  these  questions  are 
answered,  friendly  relations  are  at  once  estab- 
lished and  confidences  are  exchanged  that  the 
police  would  sometimes  be  very  glad  to  hear.  It 
may  be  that  the  police  take  full  advantage  of  this 
want  of  reticence  among  the  criminal  classes  by 
judiciously  planting  a  disguised  detective  among 
prisoners  here  and  there ;  but  if  they  do,  I  am  sure 
that  they  do  not  get  credit  from  the  criminal 
classes  for  doing  it.  Criminals  of  all  kinds  with 
whom  I  was  brought  into  association  appeared 
to  have  a  very  poor  opinion  of  the  police,  and 
ascribed  all  their  successes  in  the  detection  of 
crime  to  "  information  received  "  ;  but  there  was 
one  man  among  my  thirteen  companions  who 
certainly  could  not  accuse  the  detectives  of  want 
of  sharpness.  He  was  described  as  a  doctor  of 
medicine  and  was  certainly  a  very  well-educated 
man,  but,  according  to  the  police,  he  had  for  some 


MY   PREDECESSORS  113 

years  devoted  himself  to  the  practice  of  scientific 
forgery.  He  was  now  charged  with  the  forgery 
of  a  cheque  for  six  hundred  pounds,  the  cash  for 
which  he  had  obtained  and  made  away  with,  and 
he  was  suspected,  but  not  charged,  owing  to  want 
of  proof,  of  a  long  string  of  successful  operations 
of  the  same  nature.  How  the  police  came  to  get 
on  to  his  track  at  last  did  not  transpire ;  but  it 
was  evident  that  the  information  in  their  hands 
was  not  sufficient  to  warrant  his  arrest,  for 
when  they  did  arrest  him  so  that  they  might 
search  him  and  his  abode  for  the  evidence  they 
were  in  need  of,  it  was  on  a  minor  charge  which, 
he  insisted,  was  deliberately  got  up  by  the  police. 
Like  most  clever  criminals  he  wasn't  quite  so 
careful  in  small  things  as  he  ought  to  have  been 
for  his  own  safety,  and  when  he  was  searched  at 
the  police  station  on  being  taken  in  on  the  minor 
charge,  there  was  found  upon  him  sufficient 
evidence  to  warrant  his  detention  for  the  far 
graver  offence  for  which  he  was  now  to  stand  his 
trial.  Next  morning  at  the  police  court  the 
minor  charge,  which  the  police  admitted  could 
not  be  substantiated,  was  withdrawn,  and  he  was 
charged  with  forgery,  being  remanded  without 
any  evidence  being  given.  At  the  next  hearing, 
the  police  having  in  the  meanwhile  found  his 
I 


114  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

lodgings  and  searched  them,  there  was  plenty  of 
evidence,  and  here  he  was  at  the  Old  Bailey  with 
such  a  strong  case  against  him  that  he  looked 
upon  his  conviction  as  a  certainty.  He  was  very 
bitter  against  the  police  on  account  of  what  he 
called  their  "  unsportsmanlike  "  proceedings,  and 
I  do  not  think  that  there  can  be  any  doubt  that 
in  his  case  they  did  commit  a  premeditated 
wrong  on  him  in  order  that  the  ends  of  justice 
might  be  served.  How  far  the  police  are  justified 
in  themselves  breaking  the  law  in  order  that  law- 
breakers may  be  brought  to  reckoning  I  do  not 
pretend  to  be  able  to  say ;  but  that  they  fre- 
quently do  break  the  law  and  violate  tiie  liberty  of 
the  subject  when  they  have  reason  to  believe  that 
by  doing  so  they  can  obtain  evidence  against  a 
suspect  I  do  not  entertain  any  doubt  whatever — 
I  have  heard  too  much  about  police  methods 
from  all  kinds  of  prisoners  to  leave  any  room  for 
doubt  on  this  particular  point. 

This  doctor — he  probably  wasn't  entitled  to 
the  designation — got  seven  years,  I  think,  and  as 
he  was  supposed  to  have  netted  many  thousands 
of  pounds,  he  got  off  very  lightly  indeed  in 
comparison  with  two  other  forgers  who  were 
also  in  my  batch.  One  of  these  got  five  years 
for  forging    a  cheque  for  six  pounds,  and  the 


MY   PREDECESSORS  115 

other  was  sentenced  to  three  years  for  forging 
an  order  for  the  delivery  of  goods  valued  at 
sixteen  shillings.  Both  these  men  pleaded 
"  guilty  "  and  correctly  forecasted  their  sentences, 
a  thing  that  professional  criminals  often  succeed 
in  doing. 

"Why  are  you  going  to  plead  'guilty'?" 
I  asked  the  man  who  got  five  years.  "  Surely 
there  is  some  chance  of  your  getting  off." 

"That's  just  it,"  he  replied.  "I'm  going  to 
plead  'guilty'  because  I  want  to  make  sure  of 
not  getting  off." 

"What!"  I  ejaculated  in  amazement.  "Do 
you  seriously  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  want  to 
go  to  penal  servitude  ?  " 

"Yes  I  do,"  he  replied  calmly,  "and  so  would 
you  if  you  was  in  my  place.  I've  got  an 
incurable  disease  that  kept  me  in  hospital  pretty 
near  all  of  my  last  lagging,  and  it's  worse  now. 
I  shall  likely  enough  be  in  hospital  all  the  time 
I'm  doing  my  six  months'  'separates,'  and  if  I'm 
alive  after  they're  over  I  shall  be  sent  to  Park- 
hurst  in  the  Isle  of  Wight.  You  don't  know,  of 
course,  but  you  can  take  it  from  me  that  I  shall 
be  more  comfortable  and  better  off  in  every  way 
at  Parkhurst  than  I  should  be  in  any  workhouse 
infirmary,  and    I'm   so  situated  that  it  must  be 


ii6  A    HOLIDAY    IN   GAOL 

one  or  the  other.  No,  I  haven't  many  years  to 
live,  and  I'm  going  to  die  as  a  convict  if  I  can 
manage  it." 

It  struck  me  with  horror  to  hear  this  man 
calmly  telling  me  that  he  hoped  to  lie  in  a 
convict's  grave,  and  I  shuddered  as  I  realized 
the  significance  of  his  words.  What  a  horrible 
commentary  on  the  time-honoured  saying  that 
honesty  is  the  best  policy!  He  was  not  by  any 
means  the  only  man  I  heard  talk  in  the  same 
strain  during  my  prison  life. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
FURTHER  POSTPONEMENT 

IN  the  afternoon,  after  a  dinner  consisting  of 
an  eight-ounce  brown  loaf  and  five  ounces 
of  preserved  meat,  we  were  all  taken  up  a 
passage  and  formed  up  in  a  row  at  the  foot  of  a 
flight  of  stairs.  After  a  wait  of  about  an  hour, 
we  were  called  up  this  flight  of  steps  one  by 
one  by  a  warder  stationed  at  the  top.  When  I 
was  called  up  in  my  turn,  I  found  myself  in  the 
dock  and  facing  the  judge,  who,  in  black  gown 
and  barrister's  wig,  sat  perched  with  bent  back 
at  a  desk  below  and  to  the  right  of  the  dais, 
which  is,  I  believe,  the  seat  of  the  Lord  Mayor, 
who  is  the  nominal  president  of  the  Central 
Criminal  Court. 

Notwithstanding  the  gravity  of  my  situation, 
I  could  not  help  thinking  that  the  learned  judge 
looked  very  much  like  a  grey-headed  crow  as  he 
sat  there  quite  still  and  without  speaking  a  word 
during  the  whole  of  the  proceedings.     I  found 

117 


ii8  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

out   afterwards   that   he    could   use   his   tongue 
more  than  a  bit  when  it  suited  him. 

As  I  advanced  to  the  front  of  the  dock,  I  saw 
below  me  a  crowd  of  barristers  with  every  one 
of  their   faces   turned  my   way   and,    I  thought, 
looking  at  me  expectantly.     Again,  in  the  midst 
of  the  serious  proceedings,  I  was  powerless  to 
prevent  my  thoughts  straying,  and  this  time  the 
subject  of  them  was  the  problem  as  to  how  it 
could  have  come  about  that  the  bar  took  rank  as 
a  profession  suitable  for  gentlemen.     According 
to  my  ideas  a  man  who  can  be  hired  to  destroy 
another  man's  reputation   is  very  much   like  a 
modern  survival  of  the  bravo  of  the  middle  ages, 
and  a  gentleman  must  often  find  his  feelings  at 
variance  with  the  performance  of  the  work  he 
is   paid   to   do.      What    a  pitiful    story   that   is 
of  the   barrister  who,  when  charged  with  pro- 
fessional   misconduct   in    taking    less    than   the 
regulated  fee,  excused  himself  by  saying  that  he 
had    taken  all  that   the   man    had,  which   could 
hardly  be  called  unprofessional  conduct.     How 
that   story  has  been  laughed  over,  and  what  a 
thing  it  is  to  laugh  about ;  a  man  gives  up  all  he 
has    to    a    "  gentleman "    as    payment   for    per- 
suading a  jury  to  acquit  him  of  a  crime — the  said 
"gentleman"  being  just  as  ready,  before  being 


FURTHER   POSTPONEMENT        119 

engaged,  to  take  payment  for  persuading  the 
jury  that  the  said  man  committed  the  crime. 
What  work  for  a  gentleman  ! 

A  gentleman  in  ordinary  attire,  who  sat  at  a 
desk  under  that  occupied  by  the  judge,  now 
read  out  the  indictment,  which  occupied  many 
large  sheets  of  paper  and  a  great  deal  of  which 
I  didn't  understand  at  all. 

Having  finished  he  said:  "Are  you  'guilty' 
or  'not  guilty'?" 

"  Not  guilty  "  I  replied. 

Then  the  warder  led  me  to  a  bench  at  the  back 
of  the  dock  where  those  who  had  already  pleaded 
were  sitting,  and  the  next  unfortunate  was  called 
up.  So  it  went  on  until  all  had  pleaded,  when 
we  were  taken  downstairs  again  and  the 
proceedings  ended  for  that  day. 

At  about  five  o'clock  we  were  given  an  eight- 
ounce  loaf  and  about  two  ounces  of  cheese,  and 
at  about  eight  the  prison-van  arrived  and  took 
us  back  to  Brixton. 

On  this  occasion  there  was  none  of  the 
formality  usual  on  re-entering  the  prison  after 
being  remanded  from  a  police  court.  We  were 
simply  searched  in  a  perfunctory  fashion  behind 
screens,  and  then,  after  being  given  a  pint  of  cocoa 
and  a  loaf  of  bread,  were  locked  up  in  our  cells. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
SENTENCED 

THE  next  morning,  as  soon  as  we  arrived  at 
the  court,  we  were  taken  direct  to  the  foot 
of  the  stairs  at  the  back  of  the  dock.  When  the 
court  opened,  those  who  had  pleaded  "guilty" 
the  previous  day  were  called  up  one  by  one  to 
receive  sentence,  and  very  severe  the  sentences 
were. 

"  The  judge  ain't  on  very  good  terms  with  his 
missus,  this  morning,"  said  the  man  standing 
next  to  me  on  my  right.  "  It's  all  a  bit  of  luck  is 
this  '  weighing-off '  business.  If  that  judge  'ad  'a 
'appened  ter've  been  married  yesterday  instead 
of  fallin'  out  wi'  his  Old  Dutch  this  mornin',  that 
chap  as  'as  just  come  down  would  'a  oney  got  six 
months  instead  o' three  year." 

The  prisoner  standing  next  to  me  on  my  left 
was  a  retired  major  of  the  army  who  was  accused 
of  stealing  a  diamond  ring  from  a  jeweller's  shop. 
He,  like  myself,  had  had  a  second  charge  under 
the  Bankruptcy  Act  put  against  him,  and,  also  like 

1 20 


SENTENCED  121 

me,  was  convicted  on  this  charge  when  the 
graver  one  broke  down.  He  has  since  been 
convicted  a  second  time — which  is  ever  so  much 
easier  than  being  convicted  the  first  time — and  at 
the  time  of  writing  is  serving  a  sentence  of 
eighteen  months. 

As  the  sentenced  men  came  down  the  steps, 
some  crying  and  some  quite  unconcerned,  and 
communicated  their  sentences  to  us,  the  major 
whispered  to  me — 

"If  people  who  plead  'guilty'  are  given 
sentences  like  these,  what  are  we  to  expect  if  we 
are  found  '  guilty  '  after  making  a  fight  for  it  ?" 

Well,  we  didn't  get  off  easily.  The  maximum 
sentence  for  the  offence  of  which  I  was  con- 
victed is  twelve  months,  and  the  judge  had  to 
give  me  separate  and  consecutive  sentences  on 
each  of  the  charges  to  make  up  the  time  he 
thought  I  deserved. 

At  last  the  time  came  when  I  stood  facing  the 
judge,  with  the  jury  in  its  box  on  my  left  front. 
I  was  then  infected  with  the  common  belief  that 
trial  by  jury  is  the  greatest  safeguard  of  an 
accused  man ;  but  my  heart  sank  as  I  scanned 
the  faces  of  the  twelve  men  who  were  to  decide 
my  fate. 

There  was  one  whose  bloodshot  eyes  were 


122  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

bulging  out  of  his  head  as  if  he  had  not  only  had 
one  wet  night  but  a  series  of  them.  I  thought  as 
I  looked  at  him  that  his  head  must  ache  far  too 
much  for  him  to  give  that  close  attention  to  my 
case  that  it  must  have  if  my  side  of  it  was  to  be 
appreciated.  And  there  was  another  one  with 
the  facial  angle  of  an  anthropoid  ape.  There  was 
hardly  an  intelligent  face  in  the  whole  jury,  and 
it  did  not  need  a  phrenologist  to  predict  that  the 
jury  as  a  whole  would  take  its  view  of  the  case 
from  the  cleverest  advocate.  Alas !  I  was  com- 
pelled to  be  my  own  advocate,  in  the  very 
circumstances  where  a  man  who  is  his  own 
lawyer  has  a  fool  for  a  client,  while  on  the  side 
of  the  prosecution  were  three  of  the  ablest 
lawyers  at  the  criminal  bar. 

What  fairness  can  there  be  in  a  fight  of  this 
sort  ?  Just  about  as  much  fair  play  as  there 
would  be  if  a  man  armed  only  with  his  bare  fists 
tried  to  fight  a  fully  equipped  cavalryman  on 
horseback. 

Why  should  it  not  be  the  duty  of  the  police 
and  the  public  prosecutor  to  search  for  the  truth 
instead  of  merely  striving  for  convictions  in  a 
partisan  spirit.  Why,  as  is  unfortunately  the 
case,  should  they  produce  all  facts  that  tell 
against  a  prisoner  and  say  nothing  about  facts 


SENTENCED  123 

within  tlieir  knowledge  that  tell  in  his  favour? 
The  police  and  the  public  prosecutor  are  not 
paid  by  the  public  in  order  that  innocent  men 
may  be  sent  to  prison,  or  that  guilty  ones  should 
be  punished  more  severely  than  they  deserve  ; 
but  that,  I  am  afraid,  is  what  happens  in  very 
many  cases,  owing  to  the  manner  in  which 
Treasury  prosecutions  are  conducted. 

A  great  surprise  was  in  store  for  me.  The 
leading  counsel  for  the  prosecution  got  up  and 
announced  that  it  had  been  decided  not  to 
proceed  with  the  charge  on  which  I  had  been 
arrested  and  specifically  committed  for  trial,  and 
that  he  would  rely  on  the  charges  under  the 
Bankruptcy  Act.  If  this  meant  anything,  the 
only  meaning  that  could  be  put  upon  it  was  that 
it  was  an  admission  that  my  arrest  and  the  taking 
up  of  the  prosecution  by  the  Treasury  was 
recognized  to  have  been  a  mistake.  It  would 
never  do  to  admit  that  in  so  many  words,  though, 
and  so  some  way  had  to  be  found  to  save  the 
face  of  the  public  prosecutor.  This  way  was 
found,  and  I  was  charged  and  convicted  of  an 
offence  that  the  police  would  never  have  heard 
of  if  I  had  not  been  arrested  on  the  other  charge. 

A  man  who  has  to  conduct  his  own  defence  is 
placed  in  a  very  awkward  position.    If  he  is  keen, 


124  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

he  is  in  great  danger  of  being  regarded  as  an 
impenitent  thief,  and  if  he  isn't  keen,  it  isn't  much 
use  his  defending  himself  at  all.  A  prisoner  in 
such  a  position  has  to  cover  himself  with  humility 
as  with  a  garment ;  he  must  not  let  any  feelings 
of  indignation  show  in  his  manner  or  his  speech, 
nor  must  he,  above  all  things,  make  sarcastic 
remarks  to  witnesses.  English  justice  gives 
nothing  to  the  man  who  stands  up  and  proudly 
demands  justice  as  his  birthright ;  the  man  who 
wants  justice  must  ask  for  it  meekly  and  humbly, 
as  if  he  is  craving  a  boon  instead  of  demanding 

a  right. 

In  the  course  of  my  cross-examination  of  the 
witnesses  I  was  several  times  testily  interrupted 
by  the  judge,  who  no  doubt  thought  that  I  was 
wasting  time,  as  was  probably  the  case.  At  last 
I  said  to  him  just  as  testily — 

"  I  must  be  allowed  to  get  at  my  points  in  my 
own  way,  my  lord,  or  it  is  of  no  use  my  going 


on." 


He  didn't  interrupt  any  more,  but  I  rather 
think  that  I  did  an  extra  month  or  two  for  that 
remark. 

After  I  had  been  found  "guilty,"  the  detective 
who  had  arrested  me  and  had  been  in  charge  of 
the  case  all  through  got  into    the  witness-box 


SENTENCED  125 

to  give  me  the  usual  "  character,"  and  he  painted 
me  as  being  a  very  black  sheep  indeed.  In 
speaking  of  the  business  I  carried  on,  he 
remarked  that  I  "  foisted "  certain  articles  on 
the  public. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  I  asked  him. 
"  Were  the  goods  not  worth  the  money  asked 
for  them?" 

"  I  don't  say  that  they  weren't ;  I  know  nothing 
about  them,"  was  his  reply. 

"  Then  why  do  you  use  the  word  'foisted'? 
Do  you  know  the  meaning  of  it  ?  " 

I  got  no  answer  to  that  question.  Another 
item  of  his  evidence  was  to  the  effect  that  I  owed 
a  certain  man  seventy  odd  pounds,  the  truth  in 
this  case  being  that  I  had  an  unsatisfied  judg- 
ment against  that  man  for  twelve  pounds.  If 
one-half  of  what  that  detective  said  about  me 
were  true,  I  should  have  deserved  a  great  deal 
more  than  I  got ;  but,  speaking  with  the  fullest 
sense  of  the  responsibility  attached  to  making  a 
serious  charge  against  the  police,  I  say  emphatically 
that  he  didn't  make  a  single  statement  about  me 
that  would  have  borne  sifting.  How  much  my 
neglect  to  tip  him  when  I  was  arrested  had  to 
do  with  this  "  character  "  I  will  not  pretend  to 
say— perhaps   he   believed   all   he  was  told  by 


126  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

persons  with  whom  I  had  had  business  dis- 
putes ;  he  never  took  the  trouble  to  make 
inquiries  about  me  from  a  single  person  with 
whom  I  was  on  friendly  terms. 

After  I  had  been  sentenced,  the  judge  made 
an  order  for  the  money  that  had  been  taken  from 
me  to  be  given  up  to  me.  Nothing  was  said 
then  about  the  other  property  of  mine  that  the 
police  had  seized ;  but  a  few  days  after  I  got  to 
prison  I  was  told  that  the  police  would  hand  it 
over  to  any  one  whom  I  would  authorize  to 
receive  it. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
FELLOW   PHILOSOPHER 

I  KNEW  the  worst  now,  and  very  crushing 
it  was  ;  but  my  fit  of  depression  did  not  last 
long,  and  I  was'ingood  spirits  again  and  looking 
hopefully  to  the  future  before  I  stepped  into  the 
prison-van  that  evening. 

Down  in  the  cells  I  found  some  of  the  men  who 
had  that  day  been  sentenced  in  the  other  courts. 
There  was  the  corporation  official,  who  was  con- 
siderably more  astonished  at  his  "dose"  then  I 
was  at  mine,  for  he  had  got  three  years'  penal 
servitude  instead  of  six  months'  second  division 
predicted  for  him  by  the  defaulting  solicitor. 
There  also  was  the  brown-eyed  lovable  burglar 
with  ten  years  plus  the  unexpired  portion  of  his 
ticket-of-leave  to  do.  He  was  in  very  high 
spirits,  and  did  his  level  best  to  cheer  up  those 
who  were  down  in  the  dumps  by  recommending 
them  to  "  Cheer  up,  matey  ;  it  ain't  'arf  as  bad  as 
you  think  it  is.  You'll  be  as  'appy  as  a  bug  in  a 
rug  before  two  months  is  out." 

127 


128  A   HOLIDAY   IN  GAOL 

"  You've  got  a  pretty  severe  dose,"  said  I  to 
him. 

"  Yes,"  said  he  laughing.  "  The  old  josser  said 
as  it  was  no  good  givin'  me  short  sentences. 
Seein'  as  my  last  lot  was  seven  years  and  the 
lagging  afore  that  was  five,  I  don't  think  as  he's 
got  much  to  grumble  about.  If  he's  satisfied,  I 
am ;  I  shan't  have  to  worry  about  my  '  kip ' 
money  for  a  good  many  3'ears,  an'  if  I  won't  get 
bloaters  or  'addicks  fer  tea  I  can  do  without  'em. 
I  don't  alius  have  'em  when  I'm  out  either." 

Another  of  the  party  had  got  three  years  for 
receiving  some  sacks  of  potatoes,  knowing  them 
to  have  been  stolen.  This  man  had  passed  five 
years  in  an  industrial  school  and  could  not  read 
nor  write  He  was  very  much  upset,  but  not  on 
his  own  account :  he  was  troubled  about  how 
his  "  missus  "  was  going  to  get  along. 

"  There's  a  chap  as  was  sweet  on  'er  afore  she 
married  me,"  he  said,  "an'  I'm  sure  as  he'd  be 
good  to  her  if  she'd  go  an'  live  with  him  while 
I'm  in  ;  but  I  can  'ardly  tell  her  to  go  an'  live 
with  him,  can  I  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  would  be 
willing  for  your  wife  to  go  and  live  with  another 
man  whilst  you  are  in  prison?"     I  asked. 

"  Yus— why   not?"   he   replied.     "It  'ud    be 


FELLOW   PHILOSOPHER  129 

better  for  her  to  do  that  than  fer  'er  an'  the  two 
kids  to  star^^e,  wouldn't  it?  Mind  yer,  I  know 
as  she'd  come  back  ter  me  like  a  shot  when  I 
come  out,  so  my  mind's  easy  enough." 

Supposing,  reader,  that  you  had  seen  that 
paragraph  in  a  novel.  Wouldn't  you  have  said 
that  it  was  an  impossible  thing?  Well,  it  is  not 
fiction  at  all,  for  that  paragraph  was  burnt  on  my 
memory  when  I  heard  it,  and  I  believe  it  is  here 
reproduced  word  for  word  as  the  man  uttered  it. 

The  remaining  occupant  of  our  cell  was  an 
elderly  man  who  was  in  a  deplorable  state  of  dis- 
tress. He  wept  like  an  hysterical  woman  all  the 
time  and  utterly  refused  to  be  comforted. 

"  Poor  chap ! "  said  I  to  the  brown-eyed 
burglar,  "  I  suppose  he's  got  a  heavier  sentence 
than  yours." 

"  Not  him,"  replied  the  burglar  contempt- 
uously ;  "  he's  one  of  the  sort  that  does  bold  bad 
things  when  they're  drunk  an'  howls  like  a  little 
kid  when  they're  made  ter  toe  the  line.  The 
blighter's  got  six  weeks,  that's^  what  he's  makin' 
al)  this  row  about.  He  ought  ter  have  a  dose  of 
the  cat,  that's  what  he  wants." 

"  What  did  he  do,  then  ?  "  I  asked,  surprised 
at  the  burglar's  intolerance. 

"  Why,  he  'ad  a  few  words  with  his  daughter 

K 


130  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

when  he  was  drunk,  an'  set  his  own  house  afire 
just  to  make  her  sorry  fer  herself  if  she  got  out 
of  it  alive.  Look  at  'im  ;  he  seems  the  right 
sort  to  frighten  women  an'  kids,  don't  he?  " 

There  was  only  one  more  addition  to  the 
number  in  our  cell  before  the  arrival  of  the 
prison-van.  This  was  a  man  who  had  been 
awarded  five  years  for  bigamy. 

"  No  more  wimmen  for  me  !"  he  said  gloomily. 
"  I've  done  with  'em  as  long  as  I  live.  I  hate  the 
sight  of  a  woman  now,  I  do." 

"Cheer  up,  matey,"  said  the  burglar;  "you 
won't  be  hurt  by  the  sight  of  one  fer  three  year 
an'  nine  months  at  the  least,  an'  then  you'll  be 
glad  ter  see  both  them  wives  o'  yours  if  they 
'appen  to  meet  you  at  the  gate  coming  out." 

What  a  wonderful  thing  is  the  elasticity  of  the 
human  mind!  In  that  prison-van  there  were 
two  of  us  who  had  forfeited  decent  positions  in 
society  which  we  could  never  hope  to  regain, 
two  who  were  in  for  a  long  period  of  what  we 
then  believed  to  be  very  severe  punishment,  two 
who  thought  that  they  were  face  to  face  with  the 
worst  misfortune  that  can  happen  to  a  man  who 
has  been  in  the  habit  of  sleeping  soft  and  eating 
daintily.  And  what  were  we  two  doing  ?  Were 
we  sitting  moody  and  silent,  tormented  by  gloomy 


FELLOW   PHILOSOPHER  131 

thoughts  and  sad  apprehensions  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it ! 
We  were  laughing  and  chatting  more  like  happy 
bean-feasters. 

The  man  who  had  six  weeks  and  myself 
were  the  only  two  in  that  van  who  had 
not  been  sentenced  to  penal  servitude,  and  the 
man  with  the  fleabite  sentence  of  six  weeks 
was  the  only  one  who  was  crying  over  spilt 
milk. 

The  liveliest  of  the  lot  was  the  man  who 
had  the  heaviest  sentence — ten  years.  He  was 
wearing  a  brand  new  overcoat — a  really  good 
one — which  he  offered  to  give  to  the  dejected 
man  with  six  weeks,  who  had  none  at  all. 

"Here,  stop  that  howling,  mate,"  he  said; 
"  anybody  'ud  think  as  you'd  got  somethin'  to 
cry  about.  Here's  a  coat  for  you.  It's  a  coat  as 
you'd  never  be  able  to  get  by  yourself.  I  oney 
got  it  the  week  afore  I  was  pinched." 

The  mournful  man  shook  his  head  dole- 
fully. 

"What!  you  won't  have  it?"  he  cried  in 
astonishment.  "They  carn't  pinch  yer  fer 
havin'  it — you  ain't  supposed  ter  know  how  I 
got  it." 

"I'd—I'd  rather  not  have  it,  thank  you," 
stammered   the   mournful  man,  shrinking  from 


132  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

the  proffered  coat  as  if  contact  with  it  would  do 
him  actual  bodily  harm. 

"  Lummy,"  said  his  would-be  benefactor 
disgustedly,  "  I'd  rather  have  my  ten  stretch 
than  your  moon  an'  a  half  if  I  'ad  ter  feel  as  bad 
about  it  as  you  do." 


CHAPTER  XIX 
A  PRISONER  IN  EARNEST 

WHEN  the  door  of  the  "van  was  opened 
and  we  were  bidden  to  alight,  we  found 
ourselves  at  the  door  of  the  reception-ward  of 
the  prison. 

We  were  ushered  into  a  room  where  there 
was  a  bright  fire  burning,  and  told  to  sit  in  a  row 
on  a  form  facing  a  table  at  which  a  warder  sat 
with  a  book  in  front  of  him. 

Presently  a  khaki-clad  prisoner  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves appeared  with  a  large  can  of  oatmeal 
porridge  and  some  eight-ounce  loaves  of  brown 
bread. 

"Who  sez  a  late  dinner?"  he  asked  in  a 
subdued  tone  as  if  he  didn't  want  to  disturb  the 
v/arder  sitting  at  the  desk.  "  This  is  the  way 
we  live  here,  me  boys ;  ain't  you  glad  as  you've 
come?  " 

"Ah!"  I  said  somewhat  regretfully.  "When 
1  got  up  this  morning  I   thought  that  I   had   a 

'33 


134  A  HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

very  good  chance    of  dining  at   Frascati's   to- 
night." 

"  Frascati's !  "  said'  the  khaki-clad  man  with 
well-simulated  scorn.  "  They  ain't  got  nothin' 
like  this  at  Frascati's  !  " 

Which  was  true,  anyway. 

There  was  a  general  snigger  at  this,  which 
attracted  the  official  attention  of  the  warder  who 
loudly  admonished  us  to  "  Shut  up." 

"You're  not  allowed  to  laugh  here,  you 
know,"  whispered  the  man  with  the  porridge- 
can  in  a  pained  tone  as  he  went  from  one 
to  the  other.  "  If  you  don't  feel  as  mis'rable 
here  as  you  ought,  you've  got  to  pretend  you 
are." 

After  we  had  turned  out  our  pockets,  and 
such  of  us  as  had  them  had  divested  ourselves 
of  rings  and  studs,  we  were  ordered  to  go 
through  into  a  passage  where  there  was  a  row  of 
bath  cubicles  closed  by  half-doors.  Here  our 
prison  clothing  was  handed  to  us  and  we  were 
told  to  strip  and  bathe. 

As  we  handed  out  our  own  clothing  it  was 
bundled  up,  without  any  pretence  of  folding, 
by  two  prisoners,  one  of  whom  remarked,  as  I 
looked  shocked  at  the  way  they  were  treating 
my  clothes — 


A   PRISONER   IN   EARNEST         13s 

"  It's  all  right,  they'll  be  nicely  pressed  afore 
you  go  out." 

When  we  were  all  bathed  and  clothed  in  prison 
dress  we  were  called  into  the  room  again  one 
by  one  to  sign  the  inventories  of  our  clothing 
and  other  property.  Then,  the  doctor  having 
now  arrived,  we  were  medically  examined  as  to 
our  fitness  or  otherwise  for  hard  labour. 

I  was  passed  as  fit  for  "industrial  labour," 
which  is  what  happens  to  the  bulk  of  "  hard 
labour"  prisoners,  comparatively  few  being 
passed  as  capable  of  the  hardest  kind  of  work. 
There  is  very  little  difference  in  the  treatment 
of  those  certified  for  "hard"  and  those  certified 
for  "  industrial "  however,  except  in  the  first 
month,  when  the  "hard"  man  is  put  to  picking 
oakum  and  making  coal-sacks,  work  which  is 
never  exacted  from  a  man  who  is  only  certified 
as  fit  for  "  industrial"  labour. 

The  medical  examination  finished,  each  man 
was  given  a  pair  of  coarse  sheets,  a  pillow- 
case, and  a  towel,  and  then  a  warder,  saying 
"  Convicts  this  way,"  led  off  the  penal  servitude 
men. 

This  left  only  three  of  us — the  six-weeks'  man, 
an  old  man  convicted  of  begging  at  the  West 
London  Court,  which  is  the  only  London  police 


136  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

court  that  sends  its  prisoners  to  the  "Scrubs," 
and  myself. 

Another  warder  told  us  to  "  Lead  on,"  and 
took  us  to  "A"  Hall,  which  is  the  westernmost 
block  of  the  prison. 

It  was  close  on  ten  o'clock  now,  and,  as  the 
prison  bed-time  is  eight,  every  one  of  the 
prisoners  were  in  bed  except  the  storeman  of  the 
hall,  who  was  waiting  to  give  us  our  combs  and 
brushes,  Bibles  and  prayer-books. 

An  elderly  warder  with  a  flowing  white 
beard  was  standing  at  a  desk  placed  at  the  foot 
of  one  of  the  iron  spiral  staircases  leading 
above,  and  we  were  brought  to  a  halt  in  front 
of  him. 

"Give  the  old  gentleman  a  mattress,"  said  he 
to  the  storeman  after  we  had  been  provided  with 
the  combs,  etc.  He  was  referring  to  the  old 
beggar,  who  was  palpably  over  sixty,  and  was 
not  therefore  subject  to  the  regulation  which 
requires  a  hard-labour  prisoner  to  sleep  on  the 
bare  plank  for  the  first  fourteen  days  of  his 
sentence. 

"Come  along,  my  friend,"  said  he,  as  he 
beckoned  to  me,  and  proceeded  to  open  the  door 
of  a  cell  placed  right  opposite  his  desk. 

I  went  into  the  cell,  but  recoiled 


A   PRISONER   IN    EARNEST         137 

"Haven't  you  made  a  mistake?"  said  I. 
"This  is  a  workshop." 

He  made  a  pretence  of  looking  into  the  cell, 
and  then  started  back  in  feigned  amazement. 

"God  bless  my  soul,  so  it  is!"  said  he 
beaming  on  me  in  a  fatherly  sort  of  way.  "  But 
I  think  that  it's  also  the  boodwoor  and  the 
chamber  a  coocher,  as  the  French  say.  You'll 
find  a  nice  soft  plank  there  and  everything  else 
as  you  can  possibly  want.  We  alius  try  to  make 
our  lodgers  as  comfortable  as  we  can  ;  but  if  you 
want  an3'thing  as  you  can't  see  there  don't 
trouble  to  ask  for  it." 

Having  worked  off  this  bit  of  facetiousness 
on  me,  the  warder  gave  me  a  gentle  shove  inside 
and  closed  the  door  on  me. 

On  looking  around  me,  I  found  that  more  than 
half  the  space  of  the  cell,  which  was  only  of  the 
ordinary  size — about  twelve  feet  by  seven — was 
taken  up  by  a  loom  for  making  mats,  leaving  a 
space  of  only  about  seven  feet  by  five  for  my 
occupation. 

The  bed-board  was  standing  against  the  wall, 
and  I  was  putting  it  into  position  for  my  night's 
repose  when  my  eye  caught  a  bale  of  coir  fibre 
that  was  stowed  away  behind  the  loom. 

This,  when  spread  out,  mitigated  the  hardness 


138  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

of  the  bed-board  pretty  considerably,  and  for 
the  week  I  occupied  that  cell,  waiting  until  an 
ordinary  cell  should  become  vacant,  I  slept  much 
softer  than  the  prison  commissioners  intended 
I  should. 

The  events  of  the  day  had  excited  my  brain  to 
such  an  extent  that  I  could  not  get  to  sleep  at 
all,  and  that  night  was  the  longest  of  all  the 
nights  I  passed  in  prison,  with  the  single 
exception  of  the  night  before  my  release,  which 
was  longer  still. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   OPTIMIST   AND   THE 
BURGLAR 

AT  last  the  intolerable  stillness  was  broken 
by  the  welcome  clang  of  the  prison-bell, 
and  the  warders  tramped  into  the  hall  a  few 
minutes  afterwards  to  commence  the  duties  of 
the  day. 

It  was  pitch  dark  in  my  cell,  and  as  some 
considerable  time  elapsed  without  my  gas  being 
lighted,  or  any  notice  at  all  being  taken  of  my 
presence,  I  grew  seriously  afraid  that  I  had  been 
overlooked;  so  I  pressed  the  knob  that  rings  a 
bell  and  causes  an  indicator  to  fall  down  outside 
the  cell. 

No  notice  was  taken  of  this,  so  I  rang  again, 
and,  after  a  decent  interval,  yet  again.  This 
brought  a  warder,  who  unlocked  my  cell  door 
and  asked  angrily. 

"  What  are  you  kicking  up  that  row  for  ? 
Do  you  think  that  this  is  a  bally  hotel  where 
you  can  ring  for  the  waiter  when  you  like?  " 

139 


140  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

I  humbly  explained  that  I  thought  that  I 
had  been  overlooked,  and  received  in  reply  a 
growling  admonition  to  have  more  patience  in 
future. 

That  taught  me  that  a  man  who  rings  his 
bell  is  not  popular  in  prison,  and  I  never  used 
the  bell  again  as  long  as  I  remained  there. 
Warders  discourage  the  ringing  of  bells  by 
taking  no  notice  of  them  unless  the  ring  is 
repeated  time  after  time,  and  perhaps  this  is 
necessary,  inasmuch  as  a  newcomer  is  prone  to 
make  a  great  deal  more  use  of  the  bell  than 
there  is  any  necessity  for.  Men  who  know  the 
ropes  and  want  to  get  through  their  time  as 
comfortably  as  possible  never  make  use  of  the 
bell  unless  they  are  absolutely  obliged  to 
do  so. 

After  the  "  cleaners  "  had  collected  my  slops 
and  my  water-can  had  been  replenished,  I  was 
left  to  kill  time  until  breakfast  by  cleaning  up 
my  cell  and  polishing  my  tins.  After  breakfast, 
and  while  the  other  prisoners  were  at  chapel,  all 
the  men  who  had  been  admitted  the  previous  day 
were  collected  from  the  different  "  halls"  by  the 
reception-warders  and  taken  over  to  the  prison 
offices.  Here  we  were  taken  in  front  of  the 
deputy -governor,  who  asked  us  one  by  one  how 


THE  OPTIMIST  AND  THE  BURGLAR   141 

much  money  we  had  brought  in,  and  compared 
our  answers  with  the  entries  in  the  reception- 
warder's  book. 

Mr  Jabez  Balfour,  in  his  book  "  My  Prison 
Life,"  pokes  fun  at  this  interview  with  the 
deputy-governor,  and  calls  the  question  as  to 
money  ridiculous  and  superfluous.  He  says  he 
was  asked  "  if  he  had  any  money  with  him," 
which  was  an  absurd  question  to  ask  a  man  who 
had  been  searched  and  had  had  all  his  belongings 
taken  from  him  the  day  before.  All  I  can  say  is 
that  I  did  not  see  anything  superfluous,  absurd, 
or  ridiculous  about  it.  The  question  I  was  asked 
was,  "  What  money  did  you  bring  in  with  you  ?  " 
and  its  object  was  obviously  to  check  the  entry 
made  to  the  prisoner's  credit  by  the  searching- 
warder. 

After  our  interview  with  the  deputy-governor 
we  were  ushered  in  to  the  assistant  chaplain, 
who  asked  me  firstly  whether  I  acknowledged 
the  justice  of  my  conviction.  I  replied  that  I 
certainly  did  not.  Then  he  inquired  if  I  could 
read  and  write,  and  I  said  that  I  could  read 
fairly  well,  but  was  afraid  that  I  was  a  very  in- 
different writer.  The  schoolmaster  in  attend- 
ance was  on  the  point  of  handing  me  an 
elementary  reading-book  to  test  my  proficiency. 


142  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

when  the  clergyman  suddenly  looked  at  me  and 
asked  where  I  was  educated. 

"Ah!  I  thought  it  was  something  like  that," 
he  remarked  when  I  had  acquainted  him  with  the 
fact  that  I  was  a  university  man.  He  was  rather 
icy  in  his  manner  and  I  fancied  that  he  resented 
my  reply  to  his  reading  and  writing  question, 
thinking  that  I  was  trying  to  take  a  rise  out 
of  him.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  my  reply  was  a  bit 
jocular,  as  the  absurdity  of  asking  prisoners  in- 
discriminately whether  they  could  read  or  write 
somewhat  tickled  me. 

We  were  now  taken  back  to  the  reception- 
ward  again,  where  our  bodies  were  carefully 
scrutinized  for  marks,  and  the  men  who  had  been 
sentenced  to  penal  servitude  had  as  much  of 
their  hair  taken  off  their  heads  and  faces  as  could 
be  got  off  by  scissors.  There  was  not  much  hair 
left  when  the  prisoner  who  acted  as  barber  in  the 
reception-ward  had  done  with  them,  and  I  was 
astonished  to  see  the  difference  in  the  men's 
appearance,  which  was  so  great  as  to  make  them 
almost  unrecognizable.  It  brought  home  to  me 
the  fact,  which  I  had  never  thought  of  before, 
that  men  owe  a  great  deal  to  their  hair.  One 
man  there,  in  particular,  owed  all  his  personal 
appearance    to    a     nicely  trimmed    beard,    the 


THE  OPTIMIST  AND  THE  BURGLAR  143 

moustache  of  a  heavy  dragoon  of  fiction,  and 
a  magnificent  head  of  curly  black  hair.  With  all 
this  hair  doing  duty  he  was  a  really  handsome 
man,  with  nothing  sinister  about  his  appearance 
at  all ;  but  when  he  was  stripped  of  it,  he  showed 
a  chin  tapering  almost  to  a  point,  a  weak  sensual 
mouth,  and  an  animal  head,  which  taken  together 
made  one  shiver  involuntarily  as  one  looked  at 
him. 

The  barber  worked  in  the  passage  between 
the  baths  and  the  search-room,  and  as  we  stood 
in  a  line  awaiting  our  turn,  we  chatted  in  under- 
tones with  no  more  restraint  or  hindrance  than 
an  occasional  "  Shut  up  out  there "  from  the 
warder  sitting  at  the  desk  in  the  search-room. 

The  old  hands  utilized  the  occasion  by  telling 
us  all  about  what  was  in  store  for  us,  and  the 
burden  of  their  remarks  was  that  prison  life  was 
not  by  any  means  so  bad  as  people  who  had 
never  been  in  prison  imagined  it  to  be. 

The  amiable  burglar  who  had  got  ten  years 
spoke  words  of  encouragement  to  the  man  who 
was  so  terribly  downhearted  because  he  had 
been  sent  to  prison  for  six  weeks ;  but  the  poor 
wretch  was  inconsolable  and  the  kindly  exhorta- 
tions to  "Cheer  up"  only  brought  forth  fresh 
floods  of  tears. 


144  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

"  If  we  was  all  like  'im,"  whispered  the  burglar 
to  me,  "  there  wouldn't  be  no  need  for  more'n 
half  a  dozen  prisons  in  the  whole  country, 
because  nobody 'ud  ever  come  to  chokee  a  second 
time.  Just  fancy  the  'ell  on  earth  that  he  will 
have  to  put  up  with  for  the  next  six  weeks,  and 
then  arsk  yourself  if  he'll  ever  be  able  to  look  at 
a  copper  without  a  cold  shiver  runnin'  down  the 
hollow  in  the  middle  of  'is  back." 

"  I've  no  doubt  that  the  six  weeks  will  do  him 
a  lot  of  good,"  I  replied.  "  Have  you  met  many 
men  in  your  time  who  have  taken  it  as  badly  as 
he  is  doing?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  be  proud  of  bein'  a  bloomin' 
Englishman  if  I  'ad  come  across  many  of  his 
sort,"  he  replied  with  a  sniff. 

That  was  my  own  feeling  exactly,  and  I  am 
pleased  to  say  that  I  never  met  another  man  who 
took  his  punishment  in  such  a  cowardly  spirit. 
This  man  occupied  the  cell  next  to  mine  for  the 
first  few  days  of  his  imprisonment,  and  I  do  not 
think  that  he  ate  anything  the  whole  time,  for  I 
used  to  see  him  put  his  food  out  after  every  meal. 
His  diet  was  very  uninviting,  it  is  true,  for  as  his 
sentence  was  less  than  four  months,  he  got 
nothing  but  potatoes,  bread,  skilly,  and  suet 
pudding  for  the  first  week;  but  hunger  ought  to 


THE  OPTIMIST  AND  THE  BURGLAR  145 

make  a  man  tackle  many  things  worse  than  prison 
porridge,  and  I  was  eating  mine  with  enjoyment 
on  the  second  day,  though  I  only  had  to  face  it  at 
breakfast  and  supper-time,  while  he  had  it  for 
dinner  also.  The  man  of  good  position  who  had 
got  three  years'  penal  servitude,  and  who,  like 
myself,  had  never  been  in  prison  before,  was 
taking  his  medicine  in  a  vastly  different  fashion. 

"They  tell  me  that  you  are  much  more  to  be 
pitied  than  I  am,"  he  said  to  me,  in  a  tone  that 
implied  both  sympathy  for  me  and  disinclina- 
tion to  change  places, 

"  I'm  hanged  if  I  can  see  how  that  can  be,"  I 
replied.  "  To  start  with,  you  will  be  in  a  year 
more  than  I  shall  be,  for  if  you  earn  the 
whole  remission  you  will  have  to  do  two 
years  and  three  months,  whilst  I,  under  similar 
circumstances,  will  be  out  in  a  year  and  a 
quarter." 

"  That's  true,"  he  rejoined  cheerfully ;  "  but 
your  year  and  a  quarter  will  seem  to  be  a  longer 
time  passing  over  your  head  than  my  two  years 
and  three  months  will  appear  to  me.  You  see, 
you  will  be  passing  about  twenty-two  hours  out 
of  every  twenty-four  in  your  cell  all  the  time,  and 
the  days  will  pass  very,  very  slowly  for  you ; 
but   I,    after  the   first   six   months,  will  be  out 


T46  A   HOLIDAY    IN    GAOL 

working  in  a  gang  all  day,  and  shall  practically 
only  be  shut  up  by  myself  at  night  and  at  meal- 
times. Besides,  I  shall  get  better  food  than 
you  :  I  start  on  the  diet  you  will  have  to  wait 
four  months  for,  and  when  I  get  on  to  the  works 
I  shall  have  such  things  as  cheese  and  butter, 
which  you  will  never  get. 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  brown-eyed  burglar, 
as  he  nodded  his  head  energetically  in  my 
direction;  "everybody  as  knows  anythin'  about 
it  would  rather  hev  'is  dose  than  yours.  His 
worst  time  'ull  be  the  fortnight  as  he's  got 
to  stop  here  afore  they  sends  'im  off  somewhere 
to  do  his  six  months'  separate." 

Then  the  man  with  three  years  to  do  spoke 
hopefully  of  his  future  when  he  would  come  out 
after  serving  his  time,  though  to  my  mind  he 
hadn't  any  future  to  speak  about,  and  told  me 
that  his  wife  had  already  made  a  good  start  in 
maintaining  herself  and  the  children  by  taking 
in  lodgers.  He  and  his  wife  were  brave  people, 
it  was  easy  to  see  that,  and  as  I  listened  to  him 
I  fervently  wished  that  things  would  turn  out 
well  for  them. 

This  nice  gossipy  time  came  to  an  end  all  too 
soon  and  from  that  time  to  this  I  have  never  seen 
nor  heard  anything  of  the  optimist  with  three 


THE  OPTIMIST  AND  THE  BURGLAR  147 

years  or  the  brown-eyed  burglar  with  ten,  though 
both  of  them  are  often  in  my  thoughts,  for  I  like 
to  think  of  men  who  take  the  buffets  of  fate 
as  they  come,  which  accounts  for  my  kindly 
remembrances  of  the  optimist,  and  of  men  who 
blame  nobody  but  themselves  when  they  get 
into  trouble,  which  explains  my  interest  in  the 
brown-eyed  burglar. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
EXERCISE 

I  HAD  hardly  been  back  in  my  cell  five 
minutes  when  the  door  was  banged  open 
and  a  warder  shouted  "  Exercise  "  as  he  hurried 
past. 

I  knew,  of  course,  what  this  meant  from  my 
residence  at  Brixton,  and  was  outside  my  cell 
with  my  cap  upon  my  head,  and  making  my  way 
to  the  door  that  led  into  the  yard,  before  the 
warder  had  unlocked  the  cell  next  to  me. 

As  we  passed  into  the  yard,  a  warder  standing 
at  the  door  rubbed  his  hands  down  us  to  see  if  we 
had  anything  concealed  about  our  persons,  and 
woe  betide  the  innocent  newcomer  who  listens 
to  the  persuasion  of  some  hungry-fellow  prisoner 
and  attempts  to  carry  uneaten  bread  into  the 
exercise-yard  to  pass  it  on.  He  will  almost 
certainly  be  bowled  out  if  the  warder  on  duty 
at  the  door  is  not  one  of  those  who  perform 
the  rubbing  down  in  a  perfunctory  manner,  and 
then  it  will  be.  a  case  of  the  using  up  of  the  one 

148 


EXERCISE  149 

offence   without   punishment    that    is  generally 
allowed  a  prisoner. 

Let  the  reader  try  and  fancy  a  grass  plot 
about  fifty  yards  long  and  about  twenty  wide  set 
with  two  elliptical  asphalted  paths,  one  within 
the  other,  the  inside  one  being  small  and  at 
some  distance  from  the  outer  one,  having  huge 
concrete  blocks  at  the  ends  and  sides  of  the 
outer  path  for  the  warders,  of  whom  there 
are  always  four  to  the  eighty  or  so  prisoners 
allowed  in  the  yard  at  the  same  time,  to  see 
that  the  prisoners  do  not  hold  communication 
with  one  another,  and  otherwise  keep  order. 
At  one  end  and  at  one  side  of  this  exercise 
ground  there  are  large  plots  of  garden  ground 
which  are  tilled  for  vegetables  by  a  gang  of 
"Star"  class  prisoners. 

The  exercise  ground  is  therefore  rather  a 
pleasant  place,  and  the  daily  hour  I  spent  in  it 
slouching  round  and  round  the  path  with 
intervals  of  three  feet  between  me  and  the  men 
before  and  behind  me,  was  the  brightest  hour  of 
the  whole  twenty-four  for  me.  This  brightness 
did  not  come  altogether  from  the  open  air  and 
the  restful  green  of  the  grass,  which  were 
pleasant  enough  in  all  conscience  after  twenty- 
three  hours  of  whitewashed  wall,  but  was  largely 


ISO  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

made  up  of  the  little  tit-bits  of  news  from  outside 
that  went  round  the  circle  at  such  times.  The 
silent  system  is  more  or  less  a  dead-letter,  for  it 
is  not  and  cannot  be  so  strictly  enforced  as  to 
prevent  communication  between  prisoners,  and, 
notwithstanding  the  watching  warders,  conversa- 
tion is  pretty  brisk  at  exercise  time,  and  at  many 
other  times  too  for  that  matter.  At  exercise 
the  warders  are  not  sufficiently  near  to  hear 
conversation,  except  when  prisoners  are  actually 
close  to  their  stands,  and  they  are  dependant 
upon  their  sight  for  detecting  talking.  As  most 
men  who  have  been  in  prison  for  any  time 
acquire  the  accomplishment  of  talking  without 
appreciably  moving  their  lips  or  the  muscles  of 
their  throats,  sight  is  no  safe  guide,  and  frequently 
leads  warders  to  check  inexperienced  prisoners 
who  are  not  talking  at  all,  but  simply  swallowing 
spittle  or  moving  their  lips  to  moisten  them. 
Warders  seem  to  recognize  this  fact,  for  I  never 
knew  of  a  man  reported  for  talking  unless  he 
had  been  cautioned  more  than  once  and  there 
could  be  no  doubt  whatever  about  the  matter. 

I  didn't  find  this  out  all  at  once,  of  course, 
and  on  this  first  day  at  exercise  I  was  almost 
terrified  when  I  heard  the  man  behind  me 
actually  break  out  into  song.     A  gentleman  in  a 


EXERCISE  151 

rather  loud-patterned  ulster  was  passing  along 
the  covered  causeway  at  the  end  of  the  exercise 
ground  that  led  from  hall  to  hall,  and  as  he  came 
into  full  view  the  humorist  at  my  back  sang, 
quite  loud  enough  for  me  to  hear  quite 
distinctly — 

"  Who  will  back  a  norse,  boys,  who  will  back  a  norse, 
A  shillin'  to  a  fivah  to  any  on  the  course  ; 
A  fivah  to  a  pony,  or  even  to  a  plum, 

Me  name  is  '  Ookey  Walkah,'    an'  I   come  from  bloomin 
Brum." 

No  warder's  voice  interrupted  him,  and  he 
proceeded  to  tell  me  that  the  ulstered  gentleman 
was  known  as  "the  bookie";  but  I  never  heard 
any  one  else  so  refer  to  him. 

"  I  say,"  he  continued  after  a  pause,  as  we 
passed  a  warder,  "d'ye  like  'addicks  fer  tea?" 

I  was  afraid  to  open  my  mouth,  and  didn't 
want  him  to  think  that  I  was  "stuck  up,"  so  I 
shook  my  head. 

"Ah!  that's  a  good  job,"  he  said,  in  a  tone 
of  relief,  "  'cause  'addicks  ain't  on  the  menoo 
to-day." 

"Now  then,  number  nine,  stop  that  talking," 
shouted  a  warder. 

I  was  number  nine,  and  I  hadn't  said  a  single 
word. 


152  ^   A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

The  number  of  men  I  met  in  prison  whose 
idea  of  happiness  was  the  having  of  haddocks 
for  tea  was  surprising.  Can  there  be  any 
connexion  between  this  fish  and  an  itching  to 
possess  other  people's  property  without  those 
other  people's  consent  I  wonder? 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  WARDER 

AFTER  the  exercise  I  was  shut  up  in  my  cell 
for  the  remainder  of  the  day  with  nothing 
to  do,  and  for  a  long  time  I  sat  idly  on  my  stool 
and  listened  to  the  sounds  of  movement  outside. 

The  cell  was  on  the  ground  floor,  and  the 
ground  floor  of  "A"  Hall  was  a  very  busy 
place  in  working  hours,  if  one  might  judge  by 
the  noise.  One  side  of  it  was  a  rope  walk,  where 
rope-making  was  always  going  on;  in  the  centre 
was  a  row  of  tables  where  mats  were  finished 
off;  and  on  the  other  side  bags  were  being  filled 
with  cork  shavings  for  the  interiors  of  the  ships' 
fenders  that  are  made  at  Wormwood  Scrubs 
for  the  Royal  Navy.  If  there  is  any  hard  labour 
done  in  the  prison  at  all  it  is  done  here ;  but  I 
cannot  say  that  even  here  I  ever  saw  anybody 
working  as  hard  as  an  ordinary  bricklayer's 
labourer  has  to  work  outside. 

It  was  Friday,  one  of  the  two  days  in  the 
week  when  the  dinner  includes  a  pint  of  delicious 

153 


154  A   HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

pea-soup,  and  I  looked  forward  to  the  midday 
meal,  which  is  generally  served  in  prison  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  noon,  with  pleasure- 
able  anticipation.  But  time  hangs  heavily  indeed 
when  one  has  idle  hands  and  wishes  to  avoid 
the  company  of  his  thoughts,  and  dinner-time 
was  a  long  time  coming,  so,  with  a  view  to 
obtaining  something  to  do,  I  tapped  on  my  door 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  warder  who  was 
at  the  desk  a  few  feet  away. 

No  notice  was  taken  of  me  for  a  long  time, 
but  I  persevered  until  a  key  was  somewhat 
viciously  plunged  into  the  lock  and  the  door 
was  flung  open. 

"Now  then,  what  do  you  want?"  snapped 
the  warder  who  stood  in  the  opening. 

He  looked  so  angry  that  I  felt  quite  sorry 
that  I  had  troubled  him. 

"  I  only  wanted  to  ask  you,  sir,  if  you  could 
give  me  some  work  to  do,"  I  said  deprecatingly. 
A  wise  man  in  prison  always  "  sirs  "  the  warders, 
even  assistant-warders,  who  like  the  practice  so 
well  that  they  even  "sir"  one  another. 

"I've  got  nothing  to  do  with  your  work,"  he 
said  sourly,  "and  I  won't  have  you  interfering 
with  mine,  so  just  chuck  that  hammering  on  your 
door." 


THE   WARDER  155 

He  reached  out  for  the  handle  of  the  cell 
door  to  shut  me  in  again,  but  stopped  with  the 
handle  in  his  hand  and  looked  at  me  curiously. 

"  I've  seen  you  before  somewhere,  haven't  I  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"Not  to  my  knowledge,"  I  replied. 

"Oh  yes,  I  have.  You  was  in  that  Under- 
ground Railway  affair,  wasn't  you  ?  " 

"  This  is  the  first  '  affair '  I  was  ever  in,"  I  said 
modestly. 

"Oh,  go  and  tell  that  somewhere  else,  you 
can't  kid  me,"  he  said  dogmatically.  "  I  never 
forget  a  man's  face,  and  I'll  be  able  to  put  a  name 
to  yours  before  long." 

"Well,  you're  mistaken  this  time,  sir,"  I 
replied.  "  I've  never  been  in  trouble  before  in 
my  life,  and  I'm  certain  that  you've  never  seen 
me  before." 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  he  rejoined  as  he 
shut  the  door. 

I  didn't  pay  much  attention  to  this  incident 
at  the  time,  but  I  fancy  that  it  had  a  great 
influence  upon  my  prison  career. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
THE    "STAR"   CLASS 

AS  is  pretty  generally  known,  men  of 
previous  good  character  who  are  con- 
victed for  the  first  time  are  put  in  a  class  by 
themselves  to  prevent  contamination  by  habitual 
criminals. 

This  is  known  as  the  "Star"  class,  and  men 
serving  in  it  are  distinguished  from  other 
prisoners  by  a  large  red  star  on  the  front  of 
the  cap  and  on  the  sleeve  of  the  coat  above  the 
elbow. 

There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  under  the 
most  strict  test  of  eligibility  I  was  fully  entitled 
to  be  included  in  this  class ;  but  I  was  never  put 
in  it,  and  served  the  whole  of  my  imprisonment 
in  contact  with  the  most  hardened  offenders  that 
the  prison  contained. 

I  am  not  making  any  grievance  out  of  it, 
because  I  believe  that  I  was  much  better  off  in 
every  way  as  I  was  than  I  should  have  been  in 
the  "  Star  "  class  ;  but  as  day  after  day  went  by 

156 


THE   "STAR"   CLASS  157 

at  the  commencement  of  my  imprisonment  and  I 
was  not  put  in  the  class  I  began  to  feel  hurt,  and 
a  sense  of  injustice  grew  up  in  my  mind. 

Now  all  prisons  are  visited  periodically  by 
inspectors  of  prisons,  who  generally  visit  the 
exercise  j^ards  in  the  company  of  a  principal 
warder. 

On  arrival  in  the  yard  the  principal  warder  in 
attendance  on  the  inspector  shouts  out, 
"  Exercise,  halt.  Inspector  of  Prisons.  Any  man 
wishing  to  make  a  complaint  fall  out.  Remainder 
of  exercise,  move  on." 

Such  a  visit  occurred  when  I  was  one  day 
watching  the  "  Star  "  men  engaged  in  gardening 
whilst  I  was  doing  my  daily  hour's  mooch  round, 
and  it  suddenly  struck  me  very  forcibly  that  if 
I  had  my  "  rights"  I  might  be  among  them. 

I  therefore  fell  out  and  made  one  of  half  a 
dozen  discontented  ones  who  claimed  the  atten- 
tion of  the  inspector. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  ? "  asked  that 
official  when  in  my  turn  I  stood  before  him. 

"  I  wish  to  ask,  sir,  why  I  have  not  been  put 
in  the  'Star'  class?"  I  said  respectfully. 

"What's  the  use  of  asking  me  silly,  foolish 
questions  like  that  ?  How  the  devil  should  I  know 
why  you  are  not  in  the  '  Star '  class  ?    It's  nothing 


158  A    HOLIDAY   IN    GAOL 

to  do  with  me  what  class  they  put  you  in.  That's 
the  visiting  magistrates'  affair,  and  you  must  ask 
them  if  you  want  to  know.  I've  no  doubt  that 
they  have  very  good  reasons  for  keeping  you 
where  you  are." 

That  is  all  the  satisfaction  I  got  out  of  His 
Majesty's  Inspector  of  Prisons,  and  it  was  given 
to  me  in  a  testy,  querulous  tone  that  implied  that 
I  was  a  most  unreasonable  man  to  expect  any 
satisfaction  at  all. 

That  same  afternoon  I  received  a  visit  from  a 
clerk  in  the  prison  office,  accompanied  by  a 
principal  warder— not  the  one  who  had  shown 
the  inspector  round. 

"You  complained  to  the  inspector  about 
not  being  put  in  the  'Star'  class?"  asked  the 
clerk. 

I  nodded  my  head. 

"Well,  if  you'll  give  me  the  names  of  your 
last  two  employers,  and  any  other  references  as  to 
respectability  you  may  be  inclined  to  offer,  the 
matter  shall  be  inquired  into." 

"  I  can't  refer  you  to  employers  because  I've 
never  been  in  the  position  of  having  an  employer," 
I  answered;  "and  as  to  furnishing  you  with 
references,  the  idea  is  too  absurd  for  me  to  enter- 
tain it  for  a  moment." 


THE  "STAR"  CLASS  159 

"  In  that  case,"  said  the  clerk,  "  I  am  afraid 
that  nothing  can  be  done  for  you." 

"  Mind  you,"  said  the  principal  warder 
aggressively,  "you've  got  no  grievance  any  more. 
If  you  won't  give  us  information  to  enable  us  to 
find  out  who  you  are,  you  can't  grumble  at  not 
being  put  in  the  '  Star'  class." 

I  pointed  out  that  the  police  would  probably 
be  able  to  assure  the  magistrates,  or  whoever  it 
was  that  wanted  my  biography,  that  I  had  never 
been  convicted  before  and  that  I  had  hitherto  had 
no  stain  of  any  sort  on  my  character;  but  he 
shook  his  head  as  much  as  to  say  that  the  police 
wouldn't  commit  themselves  to  anything  of  the 
sort. 

Next  morning  I  thought  that  I  would  carry 
the  game  a  step  further,  and  put  down  my  name 
to  see  the  governor. 

The  governor  was  very  sympathetic  and 
gentlemanly;  but  he  said  that  the  point  had 
nothing  to  do  with  him. 

"  You  can  see  the  visiting  justices  at  their 
next  visit  to  the  prison,  if  you  like,"  he  con- 
tinued; "but  if  you  take  my  advice  you'll  let 
the  matter  drop.  I  don't  say  that  because  I 
have  any  doubts  as  to  the  justice  of  your 
claim,  but  simply  because  I  fancy  you  wouldn't 


i6o  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

like  the  '  Star '  class  so  well  as  your  present 
surroundings." 

I  took  the  governor's  word  for  it  and  moved 
no  further  in  the  affair.  It  was  made  clear  to  me 
afterwards  that  the  "  Star  "  men  don't  have  nearly 
such  good  times  in  prison  as  the  old  hands  do  ; 
for  the  warders  do  not  trouble  habitual  offenders 
more  than  they  are  obliged  to  do,  while  they 
look  very  sharply  indeed  after  the  "Star"  men. 
Further,  I  fancy  that  habitual  offenders  are  more 
lively  companions  in  prison  than  those  who  are 
there  for  the  first  time. 

It  appears  to  me  that  I  was  denied  entry  into 
the  "Star"  class  owing  to  the  warder  professing 
to  recognize  me  as  an  old  criminal;  but  it  may 
have  been  due  to  the  police  for  all  1  know.  In 
any  case,  it  shows  how  easily  the  authorities  are 
misled  in  such  matters. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
DINNER 

LET  me  now  go  back  to  my  first  dinner  at 
Wormwood  Scrubs.  The  dinner  consisted 
of  about  a  pint  of  good  thick  pea-soup  with  a 
distinct  meaty  flavour,  three-quarters  of  a  pound 
of  indifferent  potatoes,  and  a  six-ounce  loaf  of 
brown  bread.  With  the  potatoes  mashed  into 
the  soup  it  formed  a  dinner  with  a  suspicion  of 
Irish  stew  about  it,  and  I  never  wish  to  eat 
anything  better. 

While  on  the  subject  of  dinners,  I  may  say 
that  the  only  bad  dinners  one  gets  in  prison  are 
those  allotted  to  Wednesdays  and  Saturdays, 
which  consist  of  suet  pudding  made  with  brown 
flour,  potatoes  as  on  other  days,  and  bread.  I 
never  could  manage  the  suet  pudding,  so  to  the 
end  of  my  time  my  dinner  on  those  days  con- 
sisted of  potatoes  and  bread  only ;  but  use  made 
even  this  meagre  diet  acceptable  and  satisfying. 
In  the  early  days  of  my  imprisonment  I  had  some 
difficulty  with  my  Monday  dinners,  which  were 
M  i6x 


i62  A  HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

composed  of  haricot  beans  stewed  in  fat,  a  cube 
of  bacon  fat  that  was  supposed  to  weigh  two 
ounces,  and  potatoes  and  bread  as  usual.  At 
first,  I  used  to  regard  this  as  very  unsatisfactory, 
and  made  no  use  whatever  of  the  bacon  fat,  and 
very  little  use  of  the  beans;  but  I  very  soon 
discovered  that  the  piece  of  bacon  fat,  if  allowed 
to  get  cold,  made  an  excellent  relish  for  the  dry 
bread  at  supper-time,  and  after  I  had  got  through 
the  first  four  months  of  my  imprisonment,  when  I 
got  a  pint  of  thick  greasy  navy  cocoa  for  supper 
instead  of  porridge,  I  used  to  have  quite  famous 
suppers  on  Mondays,  Tuesdays,  Wednesdays, 
and  Thursdays,  for  by  restraining  my  appetite 
for  luxury  I  would  make  that  nominal  two  ounces 
of  fat  serve  me  as  a  supper  relish  for  those 
four  days.  The  beans,  when  mashed  up  in 
the  liquid  fat  in  which  they  were  always  swim- 
ming, became  very  palatable,  and  would  have 
been  almost  an  epicurean  dish  if  a  little  pepper 
could  have  been  added  to  them ;  but  although 
prisoners  are  allowed  to  have  as  much  salt  as 
they  want,  they  are  allowed  no  pepper  at  all. 
Thursday's  dinner  was  four  ounces  of  boiled  fresh 
beef,  with  a  small  quantity  of  the  liquor  it  was 
cooked  in,  which  was  tasty  enough  for  any  one, 
but  there  was  barely  enough  meat  and  liquor  to 


DINNER  163 

help  the  potatoes  and  bread  down.  After  four 
months  the  quantity  of  meat  was  increased  by  an 
ounce,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  that  ounce 
seemed  to  be  an  appreciable  increase  that  made 
a  skimpy  meal  into  a  good  one.  On  Sundays  we 
got  a  gruesome  reminiscence  of  the  Whitechapel 
murder  of  thirty-odd  years  ago,  for  the  prisoners 
called  the  preserved  meat  which  was  the  staple 
of  our  Sunday  meal  "  Harriet  Lane,"  which,  as 
middle-aged  people  will  remember,  was  the  name 
of  the  victim  of  that  atrocious  tragedy. 

After  dinner  on  that  first  day  I  was  idly 
turning  over  the  potato-tin,  which  fits  into  the 
top  of  the  dinner-tin  proper,  when  I  saw  some 
writing  that  had  been  scratched  on  the  bottom 
with  a  needle  or  something  of  the  sort.  It  ran  : 
"  May  the  Lord  look  sideways  on  Judge ; 


he  gave  me  twenty  moon  when  I  was  only 
entitled  to  a  stretch  " — as  to  which  I  may  say 
that  "  moon  "  is  the  prison  vernacular  for  a  month 
and  "  stretch  "  for  a  year. 

Judge  was    the  very  judge   who    had 

sentenced  me,  and  I  was  strongly  tempted  to  add 
"  Amen"  to  the  legend  on  the  tin  ;  but  I  refrained 
on  discovering  that  I  had  nothing  that  would 
make  a  scratch. 

I  used  to  inspect  all  my  dinner-tins  after  this, 


i64  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

and  came  across  many  queer  things  written  on 
them,  but  most  of  them  were  such  as  will  not 
stand  cold  print.  On  one  occasion,  though,  I 
happened  on  a  couplet  written  in  German  that 
seemed  to  me  at  the  time  to  be  peculiarly 
apposite.     It  read — 

"  Gott  lasst  die  Bose  hier  auf  Erden 
Oft  ihre  eignen  Henker  warden." 

and  may  be  very  freely  translated — 

"  God  lets  bad  men  here  below 
Often  hang  themselves  you  know." 

This  is  very  true  indeed  of  the  habitual 
criminal,  so  true  that  it  would  be  pretty  safe  to 
say  that  the  police  would  not  get  hold  of  half  of 
them  if  they  did  not  give  themselves  away  by 
some  act  of  folly. 

The  dinner  interval  in  prison  is  very  long, 
for  after  the  prisoners  are  served  the  warders 
have  to  go  away  to  their  own  meal,  for  which 
they  are  allowed  an  hour,  so  that  the  prisoners 
get  an  hour  and  a  half  at  the  least.  After  I  got 
settled  down  in  prison,  I  made  a  practice  of 
passing  this  long  middle-day  interval  on  my 
back  in  comfort,  by  putting  my  bed-board  down 
and  lying  on  the  top  of  the  mattress  and  bed- 
clothing  as  folded.     It  was  easy  to  replace  the 


DINNER  165 

bed-board  and  bedding  in  the  regulation  position 
for  the  day-time  as  soon  as  the  bell  rang  for  the 
resumption  of  the  prison  routine,  and  by  the 
time  my  door  was  opened  everything  appeared 
as  it  ought.  The  one  warder  left  in  the  hall  at 
dinner-time  on  patrol  must  often  have  seen  me 
passing  the  time  in  this  unauthorized  fashion, 
as  it  is  part  of  his  duty  to  look  in  at  the 
prisoners  through  the  "observation  holes;"  but 
nothing  was  ever  said  to  me  about  it,  which  is 
one  more  reason  for  my  opinion  that  prison 
warders  do  not  go  out  of  their  way  to  make 
trouble  for  prisoners. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
SOLACE 

ON  that  first  day's  dinner-time  I  had  not  hit 
upon  this  pleasant  way  of  passing  the 
time;  but  I  found  something  else  that  occupied 
all  my  spare  moments  for  the  first  month  of  my 
imprisonment,  when  no  library  books  are  allowed. 
I  started  to  read  the  Bible  from  cover  to  cover. 
How  many  of  you  who  read  this  have  ever  read 
that  book  of  books  all  through  ?  How  many  of 
you  will  ever  read  it  as  long  as  you  can  get 
anything  else  to  read  ?  Not  one  in  a  hundred, 
I'll  wager.  Well,  you'll  miss  something,  let  me 
tell  you,  if  you  don't  read  it.  I  read  it  through 
from  end  to  end  twice  over  during  that  first 
month,  and  I  didn't  have  a  dull  hour  the 
whole  time.  Putting  its  sacred  character  aside 
altogether,  the  Bible  ought  to  be  read  by  every- 
body for  the  worldly  wisdom  it  contains,  and  I 
became  more  and  more  surprised  every  day  that 
I  had  never  discovered  this  fact  before.  Hafiz, 
Omar  Khayyam,  and  Co.  are  simply  "not  in  it " 

i66 


SOLACE  167 

with  the  Bible,  if  you  will  but  take  the  trouble 
to  think  as  you  read,  and  I  hold  the  opinion  that 
if  my  imprisonment  had  done  nothing  else  for 
me,  the  new  ideas  and  the  new  outlook  on  life 
that  I  got  from  that  month's  close  thoughtful 
reading  of  the  Scriptures  would  have  been  ample 
compensation  for  the  inconvenience  I  suffered. 
I  don't  want  to  be  misunderstood,  so  I  will  say 
that  my  remarks  on  this  head  are  not  to  be  taken 
as  an  admission  that  I  "got  religion"  during  the 
process,  because,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was  no 
more  religious  when  I  had  finished  the  course  of 
reading  than  I  had  been  at  the  start.  I  am  not 
touching  upon  the  question  of  religion  at  all, 
and  my  recommendation  to  read  the  Bible  is 
based  on  the  conviction  that  it  is  one  of  the  best 
storehouses  of  secular  wisdom  in  existence. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
GOOD-NIGHT 

THAT  night,  about  two  hours  after  supper- 
time,  when  all  prisoners  were  locked 
in  their  cells,  the  stillness  of  the  prison  was 
suddenly  broken  by  the  opening  and  shutting 
of  cell  doors  and  the  voices  of  warders  giving 
some  two-worded  order  which  I  could  not  make 
out.  They  did  not  come  to  my  cell  and  I  got  no 
explanation  of  the  tumult  for  several  days  after- 
wards, by  which  time  my  curiosity  was  at  fever- 
heat  as  the  same  thing  happened  every  night. 
Then  I  discovered  that  the  cell  doors  were 
opened  in  order  that  the  prisoners  should  put 
any  work  or  material  they  had  in  their  cells  out- 
side the  door  for  the  night,  and  that  the  short, 
sharp  two-worded  order  that  was  repeated  at 
every  cell  and  had  puzzled  me  so  much  was 
simply  "Workout." 

Following  the  first  warder  on  these  occasions 
comes  a  prisoner,  whose  duty  it  is  to  collect  the 
scissors  and  other  tools  in  use,  and  he  is  quickly 

1 68 


GOOD-NIGHT  169 

followed  by  the  second  warder  who,  after 
satisfying  himself  that  all  the  prisoner's  work 
is  outside,  closes  the  cell  door  and  locks  it  for 
the  night.  This  ceremony  is  called  "  Locking," 
and  no  prisoner  is  supposed  to  go  to  bed  before 
it  has  been  performed.  Almost  immediately 
after  the  warders  have  finished  their  round  the 
prison-bell  rings  for  bed,  and  a  few  minutes 
after  this  the  lights  are  turned  out,  so  that  by  a 
quarter-past  eight  at  the  latest  the  cells  are  in 
darkness. 

Many  of  the  old  hands  among  the  prisoners 
take  advantage  of  the  two  warders  being  em- 
ployed on  another  landing  or  at  the  other  end  of 
their  own,  as  may  be  gathered  from  the  banging 
of  doors  and  clashing  of  keys,  to  shout  greetings 
to  one  another  by  kneeling  down  and  applying 
their  mouths  to  the  crack  between  tbe  bottom  of 
the  door  and  the  floor,  so  that  there  is  a  pretty 
continuous  run  of  shouts  like  "Good-night 
Billy,"  "  Cheer  up  Jimmy,"  and  so  on,  all  the 
time  the  warders  are  locking  up.  This  sort  of 
thing  only  happened  in  "A"  Hall  of  the  two 
halls  in  which  my  imprisonment  was  served.  In 
"B"  Hall  I  never  heard  a  single  shout  during 
the  locking  time,  but  three  out  of  the  four 
"  wards  "  or  landings  in  this  hall  were  occupied 


I70  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

by  "  Star  men,"  "  Second  Division "  men,  and 
"  Debtors"  who  would  naturally  be  too  subdued 
to  do  anything  of  the  kind,  and  the  eighty  men 
on  the  top  landing  who  belonged  to  neither  of 
these  classes  could  hardly  be  called  old  hands, 
as  there  were  few  who  had  been  in  prison  more 
than  once  before. 

I  slept  as  well  as  I  could  wish  on  the  second 
night  of  my  imprisonment,  although  my  couch 
was  not  as  comfortable  as  might  be  desired,  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  my  find  of  the  bale  of 
coir  fibre  kept  me  off  the  bare  board,  and  from 
this  time  onwards  until  the  last  night  of  my 
imprisonment,  when  I  didn't  sleep  at  all,  I  never 
had  a  bad  night's  rest.  After  the  bare-board 
stage  I  found  the  prison  beds  very  comfortable 
indeed,  though  I  must  stop  short  of  calling  them 
luxurious,  and  I  imagine  that  few  people  who 
find  themselves  in  prison  sleep  softer  outside 
than  in. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
A   TEMPTATION 

NEXT  morning,  immediately  after  tlie 
breakfast  interval  I  made  my  first  visit 
to  the  prison  chapel.  "Chapel"  is  part  of  the 
daily  routine,  and  takes  up  about  three-quarters 
of  an  hour  of  the  fourteen  which  comprise  a 
prisoner's  waking  day.  Of  this  three-quarters 
of  an  hour  to  an  hour  the  actual  service  occupies 
about  half  an  hour,  the  remainder  of  the  time 
being  taken  up  with  the  filing  in  and  out,  which 
is  rather  a  long  process.  The  seating  of  the 
prisoners  is  managed  so  that  the  convicts  who 
are  making  a  temporary  stay  in  the  prison  enter 
the  chapel  first  and  sit  right  in  front,  thus  seeing 
nobody  but  themselves  and  the  officiating  clergy- 
man. Then  come  the  hard-labour  men  of  the 
general  class,  who  can  see  the  convicts  but 
cannot  see  any  class  superior  to  themselves. 
Next  in  order  are  the  "Star"  men,  behind  them 
again  come  the  "  Second  Division,"  and  right  at 
the   back  are  the   "  Debtors,"   who    can   see  all 

171 


1/2  A   HOLIDAY    IN   GAOL 

classes  in  the  prison  but  cannot  be  seen  them- 
selves. In  going  out  after  the  service  the  order 
is  reversed,  the  debtors  leaving  first,  so  it  will 
be  seen  that  a  hard-labour  man  in  one  of  the 
front  rows  has  to  sit  still  waiting  for  some  time 
before  and  after  service. 

A  great  deal  of  conversation  goes  on  during 
these  intervals,  in  spite  of  the  warders  perched 
up  at  the  end  of  about  every  third  form,  and 
also  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  there  is  an  interval 
of  about  two  feet  between  each  prisoner.  Many 
and  many  a  tale  of  unpunished  robbery,  and 
many  and  many  a  discussion  as  to  future  coups 
have  I  listened  to  as  I  sat  in  chapel ;  and  I  could, 
had  I  been  so  disposed,  have  told  the  police 
many  things  that  they  would  have  been  glad  to 
hear.  But  I  judged,  and  rightly  so  I  think,  that 
it  was  no  duty  of  mine  to  act  the  part  of  informer 
and  I  do  not  think  that  I  would  have  been 
willing  to  speak  even  if  I  had  been  directly 
questioned.  I  was  asked  on  one  occasion  to 
repeat  a  conversation  that  I  had  overheard 
between  two  prisoners  who  were  plotting  the 
downfall  of  a  warder  who  they  thought  had  not 
treated  them  fairly  in  the  matter  of  the  quantity 
of  "snout,"  or  tobacco,  and  eatables  that  he  had 
smuggled    in   to  them  in  exchange   for   money 


A  TEMPTATION  173 

provided  by  their  friends.  The  warder's  con- 
science must  have  been  uneasy,  for  he  came  to 
my  cell  after  chapel  and  offered  to  bring  me  in 
some  ham  sandwiches — terrible  temptation  !— if  I 
would  tell  him  what  they  had  been  talking  about. 
I  tried  hard  to  put  away  from  me  the  instan- 
taneous vision  of  nice  new  slices  of  sandwich 
loaf  and  pink  and  white  ham  plentifully  be- 
spattered with  mustard — the  mustard  was  almost 
a  greater  temptation  than  the  bread  and  ham, 
for  prison  food  is  terribly  wanting  in  piquancy ; 
but  it  would  float  about  in  mj'^  mind's  eye,  and  I 
almost  fancied  that  I  could  feel  that  much-desired 
bite  of  the  mustard  on  my  tongue.  If  it  had 
been  merely  a  question  of  deciding  between  the 
warder  plus  sandwiches  and  the  prisoners  minus 
sandwiches,  I  should  certainly  have  succumbed  ; 
but  I  was  mortally  afraid  of  having  anything  to 
do  with  trafficking,  and  this  fear  turned  the  scale 
in  the  prisoner's  favour. 

I  had  to  lie  boldly  if  I  lied  at  all,  so  I  replied 
to  the  effect  that  I  had  not  heard  them  talking  at 
all,  and  that  I  did  not  believe  that  they  had  been 
talking. 

"  I  saw  them,"  he  retorted. 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  say  that  you  were 
mistaken,"  I  replied  in  an  indifferent  tone;  "  but 


174  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

I  can't  understand  how  it  was  that  they  could 
manage  to  talk  without  my  hearing  them,  seeing 
that  they  were  sitting  right  in  front  of  me." 

This  seemed  to  satisfy  him,  and  he  went  away 
rather  more  reassured  than  he  ought  to  have 
been.  He  disappeared  from  our  view  some 
little  time  after  this,  and  it  was  rumoured  that 
he  had  been  dismissed  the  service  for  trafficking ; 
but  whether  his  dismissal  was  brought  about 
by  the  machinations  of  those  two  particular 
prisoners  I  cannot  say. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
COMPLAINTS 

ON  the  first  occasion  of  my  attending 
chapel  at  the  "  Scrubs "  I  overheard  a 
conversation  between  two  men  seated  behind 
me  that  got  firmly  wedged  in  my  memory. 

"  It  sez  in  my  libery  book,"  remarked  the 
first,  "  that  pris'ners  in  gaol  live  longer  than 
other  people.    That's  curious,  ain't  it?" 

"  Don't  see  anythin'  curious  abaht  it,"  growled 
number  two ;  "  ev'ry  bloke  as  I've  ever  come 
acrost  knows  as  a  'moon '  in  here  is  as  long  as 
a  'stretch 'outside. 

"  I  know  all  about  that  meself,"  said  the  other 
one  grumpily.  "Wot  I  mean  is  that  men  in  gaol 
get  older  than  people  as  keeps  out." 

"  My  oath  they  do,"  chuckled  number  two ; 
"ther's  nothin'  like  'stir'  fer  makin'  a  bloke  old." 

"I  don't  want  ye  to  take  no  liberties  wi'  me," 
said  number  one  sourly.  "You  know  what  I 
mean  as  well  as  I  do,  an'  if  you  want  ter  take  a 

175 


176  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

rise   out  of  anybody  you'd  better  try  someone 
else." 

"  AH  right,  mate ;  don't  get  shirty,"  replied  the 
other  soothingly.  "  It's  all  right  wot  it  sez  in 
the  book  ;  but  I  don't  want  ter  live  long,  fer  one, 
if  I've  got  ter  do  most  of  the  livin'  in  'ere.  I'd 
rather  hev  one  year  wi'  the  pals  an'  the  gels  up 
'Oxton  way  than  ten  year  in  the  most  comfortable 
'  stir '  as  was  ever  invented." 

I  suppose  he  was  exceptionally  successful 
outside.  My  experience  of  the  genus  gaol-bird 
leads  me  to  think  that  the  bulk  are  poor  miser- 
able creatures  who  return  to  gaol  time  after  time 
because  they  are  more  comfortable  there  than 
they  are  outside. 

Another  means  of  communications  between 
prisoners  in  chapel  is  furnished  by  the  singing. 
On  my  first  appearance  there  I  was  asked  how 
long  I  had  got,  what  it  was  for,  and  if  I  had 
managed  to  smuggle  any  "snout"  in  with  me,  all 
to  the  tune  of  the  Magnificat,  while  the  congrega- 
tion was  singing  that  anthem  ;  and,  though  it 
went  sorely  against  my  grain  to  profane  the 
service  in  this  way,  I  felt  constrained  to  answer 
in  the  same  manner,  inasmuch  as  a  friendly  warder 
had  cautioned  me  at  the  very  start  of  my  prison 
life  not  to  be  stand-offish  or  stuck-up  with  my 


COMPLAINTS  177 

fellow-prisoners,  as  if  they  once  got  the  idea 
into  their  heads  that  I  was  giving  myself  airs, 
they  could  make  things  very  uncomfortable  for 
me  in  ways  that  carried  no  redress. 

Immediately  after  chapel  on  that  Saturday 
came  exercise,  and  a  very  exciting  time  it  was. 
Being  only  a  new-comer,  I  didn't  know  at  the 
time  what  led  up  to  the  scene  I  am  about  to 
describe;  but  I  learned  afterwards  that  just 
about  that  time  there  had  been  an  attempt  to 
enforce  the  labour  regulations  with  greater 
strictness,  and  that  there  was  great  dissatis- 
faction among  the  old  hands  in  consequence. 
For  instance,  the  labour  regulations  require  that 
a  man  who  is  sentenced  to  "hard  labour,"  and 
is  passed  by  the  doctor  as  being  physically  fit 
for  it,  shall  pick  three  pounds  of  oakum  per  day, 
if  he  is  set  to  picking  oakum,  during  the  time  he 
is  in  the  first  stage — that  is,  until  he  has  earned  a 
certain  number  of  marks,  which  he  can  do  in 
twenty-eight  days  if  he  gets  the  full  number  of 
marks  allowed.  Now  it  appears  that  a  custom 
had  grown  up  of  being  satisfied  with  much  less 
than  the  regulation  three  pounds ;  in  fact,  a  man 
told  me  that  he  had  never  picked  that  quantity 
in  a  day  in  his  life,  though  he  had  been  sentenced 
to  "  hard  labour"  no  less  than  eleven  times,  and 

N 


178  A   HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

had  been  employed  on  picking  oakum  during  his 
first  stage  on  every  occasion. 

Few  people  in  this  world  are  as  keen  on 
sticking  up  for  their  "rights"  as  habitual 
criminals  in  gaol,  and  as  the  old  hands  at  the 
"  Scrubs  "  at  that  time  had  previously  only  done 
about  as  much  work  as  they  wanted  to  do,  they 
were  naturally  very  much  hurt  at  the  attempt  of 
the  authorities  to  exact  something  more  nearly 
approaching  the  regulation  pound  of  flesh  than 
had  been  the  custom,  though  I  do  not  think  that 
even  then  they  stuck  out  for  the  full  three 
pounds  laid  down  on  the  labour  card. 

I  am  told  that  in  some  workhouses  honest 
paupers  are  compelled  to  pick  four  pounds  of 
oakum  a  day ;  that  is,  a  pound  more  than  a  man 
sentenced  to  hard  labour  has  to  do  in  the  initial 
stage  only  of  his  punishment,  A  man  sentenced 
to  hard  labour  does  not  pick  oakum  at  all,  or  he 
didn't  do  so  at  Wormwood  Scrubs  during  my  time 
there,  after  he  passes  out  of  the  first  stage ;  but 
the  honest  pauper,  I  am  told,  has  to  pick  oakum 
all  the  time.  My  informant  on  this  point  assured 
me  that  he  once  got  seven  days'  hard  labour  in 
Chelmsford  Gaol,  where  his  maximum  task  was 
three  pounds  of  oakum  a  day  and  he  actually 
got  off  with  about  half  that  quantity,  for  refusing 


COMPLAINTS  179 

to  pick  four  pounds  of  oakum  a  day  in  Dunmow 
Workhouse. 

The  dissatisfaction  in  the  prison  culminated 
on  this  Saturday  morning  in  the  visit  of  either 
an  inspector  of  prisons  or  a  visiting  magistrate, 
I  am  not  sure  which,  as  I  did  not  hear  the 
principal  warder  who  accompanied  the  visitor 
announce  his  quality. 

There  were  a  large  number  of  men — two  or 
three  dozen  I  would  say — who  fell  out  of  the 
ranks  to  make  complaints,  and  I  was  told  after- 
wards that  all  of  them  were  indignant  at  the 
tightening  of  the  labour  screw. 

One  of  them  in  particular  was  very  much 
excited,  and  shouted  what  he  had  to  say,  so  that 
there  was  no  difficulty  in  hearing  him. 

"They're  treatin'  us  like  dogs,"  he  howled, 
as  soon  as  his  turn  came  to  interview  the 
visitor. 

I  was  passing  close  by  at  the  time  and  heard 
the  visitor's  answer. 

"We  don't  lay  ourselves  out  to  give  you  all 
the  comforts  of  home,"  he  said  good-humouredly. 

"  They  want  me  to  do  three  pound  of  oakum  a 
day,"  yelled  the  complainant.  "  I  ain't  never 
done  it  afore,  an'  I  ain't  agoin'  ter  do  it  now." 

"  Well,  I'm  afraid  I  cannot  help  you,"  replied 


i8o  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

the  visitor.  "You  must  settle  that  little  matter 
with  the  governor." 

"I'll  report  you  to  the  Sekittary  of  State," 
foamed  the  now  furious  prisoner.  "You're 
supposed  ter  come  'ere  ter  see  as  they  don't 
jump  on  us — an'  you  bloomin'  well  'elp  'em  ter 
do  it." 

The  visitor  walked  away  without  making  any 
reply,  and  the  prisoner  was  hustled  back  into 
the  ranks. 

When  all  the  complainants  had  been  inter- 
viewed and  most  of  them  were  almost  as  excited 
and  unreasonable  as  the  one  reported  in  detail, 
the  visitor  went  into  the  next  yard,  the  gate  of 
which  was  left  standing  open. 

Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  the  man  whose 
remarks  are  given  above  that  he  had  something 
more  to  say,  and  he  left  his  place  in  the  ranks 
and  started  in  the  direction  of  the  adjoining 
yard. 

"  Get  back  into  your  place,"  shouted  the 
warder  in  charge  of  the  exercise. 

"  I  wanter  see  the  inspector  agin,  and  I'm 
goin'  to,  whether  you  like  it  or  not,"  yelled  the 
prisoner,  who,  by  the  way,  was  a  big  athletic 
customer  that  few  men  would  have  cared  to 
stand  up  to. 


COMPLAINTS  i8i 

The  warder  made  no  reply  in  words,  but 
got  down  from  his  perch  on  the  block  of 
concrete  and  caught  the  prisoner  by  the  arm 
with  the  intention  of  pushing  him  back  into  the 
ranks. 

As  soon  as  the  prisoner  felt  the  warder's 
touch  on  his  arm,  he  swung  round  on  his  heel, 
and  bringing  his  left  fist  plump  on  the  point  of 
the  officer's  jaw,  he  felled  him  like  a  pole-axed 
bullock. 

The  exercise  stopped  like  one  man,  and  the 
other  three  warders  jumped  off  their  pedestals 
and  rushed  on  the  mutineer,  taking  out  their 
"coshes,"  or  staves,  and  blowing  their  whistles 
as  they  ran. 

The  first  officer  to  reach  the  prisoner  rushed 
on  him  with  uplifted  truncheon,  but  before  he 
could  bring  it  down  the  prisoner  had  caught 
him  under  the  arm  with  his  right  hand  and  given 
him  a  punch  on  the  solar  plexus  with  his  left 
that  doubled  him  up. 

He  tried  the  same  dodge  with  the  second 
warder;  but  the  officer  was  too  sharp  for  him, 
and  brought  the  cosh  down  with  a  swinging 
blow  on  to  the  prisoner's  head,  laying  him  out 
at  full  length  on  the  ground,  looking  just  like  a 
statue  that  had  been  pushed  off  its  pedestal. 


i82  A   HOLIDAY   IN  GAOL 

It  was  the  regular  father  and  mother  of  a 
crack,  that  was,  and  it  echoed  all  over  the  yard 
with  a  sort  of  sickening  smashing  sound,  just  as 
if  someone  had  hit  a  half-ripe  pumpkin  as  hard 
as  possible  with  a  broomstick. 

When  the  prisoner  knocked  out  the  warder 
there  were  smiles  on  the  faces  of  many  of  the 
other  prisoners,  but  the  knocking  down  of  the 
prisoner  was  not  approved  of  at  all,  and  was 
greeted  with  "  boos"  and  cries  of  "shame." 

This  had  all  taken  place  in  the  space  of  a 
minute  or  two,  and  so  far  no  reinforcement  of 
warders  had  arrived  in  response  to  the  whistles ; 
but  now  the  jingling  of  keys  was  heard  from 
inside  the  hall  and,  the  locked  grille  being  opened, 
half  a  dozen  officers  rushed  into  the  yard. 

The  scene  at  that  moment  looked  more  like 
melodrama  than  real  life.  There  was  the  prisoner 
lying  on  the  ground,  his  face  like  the  face  of  a 
wax  figure,  with  a  little  rivulet  of  blood  running 
down  it  from  the  gash  made  by  the  warder's 
truncheon  ;  the  knocked-out  warder  was  lying 
a  few  yards  away  all  in  a  heap  like  a  man 
struck  by  lightning ;  the  warder  that  had  been 
punched  in  the  solar  plexus  was  leaning  against 
the  wall  looking  very  sick,  and  the  prisoners  at 
exercise  stood  in  the  ranks  as  they  had  halted, 


COMPLAINTS  1S3 

looking  very  much   interested   and   murmuring 
among  themselves. 

Then  the  irrepressible  "Back  a  norse"  man, 
who  was  again  placed  behind  me,  imported  a 
glimmer  of  comedy  into  the  situation  by  singing, 
in  tones  that  suggested  amused  sarcasm — 

"  Oh  me  !  oh  my  !    Wormwood  Scrubs  afore  the  Union 
fer  me, 
For  they  feeds  yer  an'  they  clothes  yer, 
Kerwite  as  good  as  any  workin'  man  or  soljer  ; 
An'  ye  does  a  httle  work  fer  a  portion  of  the  day, 
While  ye  all  goes  ter  chapel  on  a  week-day." 

This  is  horrible  doggerel  of  course,  but  it 
didn't  sound  so  bad  as  it  looks  in  print,  and  the 
funny  way  he  droned  it  out  caused  me  to  smile 
in  spite  of  the  tragical  surroundings.  He  him- 
self smiled  on  the  other  side  of  his  face  a  few 
seconds  afterwards,  for,  counting  too  much  on 
the  confusion,  he  raised  his  voice  as  the  song 
progressed  and  was  heard  by  a  warder,  who 
came  up  behind  him  to  assist  in  moving  the 
exercise  on.  On  the  next  day  but  one,  Monday, 
he  had  an  interview  with  the  governor,  and  got 
three  days'  bread  and  water,  with  the  consequent 
loss  of  three  days'  remission,  a  punishment  that 
also  carries  with  it  loss  of  exercise  and  depriva- 
tion of  chapel,  a  very  real  punishment  indeed, 
for  the  bread-and-water  period. 


i84  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

The  first  thing  the  warders  did  on  the  arrival 
of  the  reinforcement  was  to  draw  their  truncheons 
and  threateningly  order  the  nearly  mutinous 
prisoners  to  move  on,  and  after  a  momentary 
hesitation  the  exercise  began  to  move  round 
again,  the  officers  taking  the  numbers  of  several 
men  who  showed  unwillingness  to  move.  Then 
the  wounded  prisoner  was  carried  to  hospital 
and  the  knocked-out  warder,  who  had  recovered 
consciousness,  was  led  away. 

I  heard  afterwards  that,  in  addition  to  the 
crack  on  the  skull,  which  kept  him  in  hospital  for 
some  time,  the  mutinous  prisoner  was  sentenced 
by  the  visiting  magistrates  to  lose  the  whole  of 
his  remission  and  be  kept  for  a  considerable 
period  on  punishment  diet. 

The  bulk  of  the  prisoners  thought  that  the 
row  did  good,  though,  for  the  work-warders 
after  this  were  said  to  moderate  their  demands ; 
but  I  personally  know  nothing  of  all  this,  as  I 
hadn't  been  put  to  work  at  all  at  the  time  of  the 
disturbance,  and  when  I  was  found  something  to 
do,  the  work-warders  didn't  trouble  me  much,  as 
will  be  seen  later. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
SUNDAY 

THE  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  Sunday  in 
gaol  is  the  worst  day  of  the  week,  for 
there  is  no  bustle  and  nothing  to  help  the  flight 
of   time,   except   reading  and    the    two    chapel 
services,  which  each  last  about  an  hour  and  a  half. 
The  evening  service  commences  at  half-past  one 
in   the   da}^    and    finishes   at   three.     Supper   is 
served  before  four,  and  after  supper  most  of  the 
prisoners  go  to  bed.     It   is  a  common  practice 
of  prisoners   to   seek   to    mitigate    the   terrible 
monotony  of  the  prison  Sunday  by  secreting  a 
part  of  their  work  instead  of  putting  the  whole 
of  it  out  on  Saturday  night,  and  surreptitiously 
doing  it  on  Sunday.     I  myself  only  had  four  or 
five  dismal  Sundays,  for  early  on  in  my  imprison- 
ment I   discovered    that    there    was   a  way   of 
getting  a  supply  of  books   from  outside  which 
could  be  kept  in  one's  cell  and  used  to  vary  the 
literary  pabulum  issued  from  the  prison  library. 
I  was  put  up  to  this  by  a  man  who  occupied  the 

185 


186  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

next  cell  to  the  one  in  which  I  was  placed  a  few 
days  after  my  first  Sunday  in  prison. 

"  What  a  terrible  day  Sunday  is  !  "  I  said  to 
him  on  my  second  Sunday,  as  we  were  waiting 
our  turn  to  come  out  of  chapel  after  service. 

"  Indeed  !  I  don't  find  it  so,"  he  replied.  "  I 
think  that  it  is  the  best  day  in  the  week,  and  I 
think  that  you  will  come  to  the  same  conclusion 
if  you  will  do  as  I  have  done.  This  isn't  my  first 
experience  of  prison,  unfortunately,  so  I  am  up 
to  all  the  ropes.  Among  the  things  I  learned 
when  I  was  here  before  was  that  if  one  goes 
judiciously  to  work  it  is  possible  to  have  books 
sent  in  from  outside,  the  conditions  on  which 
this  is  allowed  being  that  the  books  must  be  of 
an  instructional  nature,  and  that  they  must  be 
given  to  the  prison  library  after  you  have  done 
with  them." 

"  But  the  amount  of  amusement  to  be  got 
out  of  school-books  is  very  limited,  surely,"  I 
objected. 

"Just  so;  but  the  old  chaplain  is  a  very 
liberal-minded  man,  and  his  definition  of  a  book 
of  instruction  is  very  wide.  I  have  books  in  my 
cell  that  are  anything  but  school  or  college  text- 
books, and  they  help  me  to  pass  the  time  very 
well." 


SUNDAY  187 

I  opened  the  ball  the  next  morning  by  put- 
ting down  my  name   to  see  the  chaplain,  who 
never  intrudes  on  a  prisoner  unless  the  prisoner 
expresses   a   desire    to   see    him.     I    had    been 
warned  not  to  prefer  my  request  to  the  assistant- 
chaplain  if  he  came   instead  of  the  chaplain,  as 
he  was   one   of  that   large   class   of   men   who 
always  seek  some  reason  for  refusing  a  request 
instead  of  an  excuse  for  granting  it,  and  that  the 
chaplain  himself  could  hardly  stultify  his  assis- 
tant by  granting  a  request  after  he  had  refused 
it.      Accordingly,    when    the    assistant-chaplain, 
turned  up  in  the  dinner-time,  which  is  the  time 
the  chaplains   generally   make   their    rounds,    I 
switched  myself  off  the  request  I  was  going  to 
make  to  be  allowed  to  have  some  books  sent  in, 
and   asked   simply   if   there   were   any  German 
Bibles  in  the  prison,  and,  if  so,  whether  I  might 
have  one  instead  of  the  English  one  that  had 
been  served  out  to  me. 

"What  do  you  want  a  German  Bible  for?" 
asked  the  assistant-chaplain,  in  a  tone  which 
suggested  that  I  might  possibly  want  it  to  make  a 
hole  in  my  cell  wall  with.    "  Are  you  a  German  ?  " 

I  replied  to  the  effect  that  I  was  not  a  German, 
but  that  I  was  able  to  read  the  German  language, 
and  wanted  the  Bible  for  purposes  of  study. 


i88  A   HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

"No,"  he  said,  "  I  am  afraid  that  you  cannot 
have  a  German  Bible.  We  have  them,  of  course, 
but  they  are  for  German  prisoners,  and  there  is 
no  precedent  for  issuing  one  to  an  English 
prisoner." 

On  my  telling  my  next-door  neighbour  the 
result  of  this  interview,  he  said  that  I  had  better 
not  apply  again  to  see  the  chaplain  until  I  got  into 
the  second  stage,  as  although  instructional  books 
are  allowed  to  prisoners  in  the  first  stage,  it  was 
extremely  doubtful  whether  permission  would 
be  given  for  any  books  to  be  sent  in  to  me  until 
I  was  over  my  first  month. 

As  soon  as  I  reached  the  second  stage  I  put 
down  my  name  again  to  see  the  chaplain,  and 
this  time  it  was  the  dear  old  chaplain  himself 
who  came  to  see  me.  He  was  very  sympathetic, 
said  not  a  single  word  about  religion,  and  readily 
gave  me  permission  to  tell  my  friends  when  I 
wrote  to  them,  which  I  should  not  be  entitled  to 
do  for  another  twenty-eight  days,  as  one  is  not 
entitled  to  write  or  receive  a  letter  or  have  a 
visit  until  he  reaches  the  third  stage. 

I  pointed  this  out  to  him,  when  he  at  once 
volunteered  to  write  to  my  friends  himself, 
and  in  a  few  days  afterwards  the  schoolmaster 
brought  to  me  a  book  of  mathematical  examples 


SUNDAY  189 

taken  from  University  Examination  Papers,  a 
Russian  grammar  and  reader,  "Don  Quixote"  in 
the  original  Spanish,  and  Schiller's  "Thirty  Years' 
War"  in  the  original  German.  Later  on  I  got 
other  books  as  I  needed  them,  but  I  was  not 
allowed  to  have  more  than  six  in  my  cell  at  any 
one  time.  In  addition  to  these  books  of  my 
own,  I  got  the  usual  one  book  a  week  during  the 
time  I  was  in  the  second  stage,  that  is  during 
my  second  month  in  prison,  and  two  books  a 
week  afterwards,  from  the  prison  library'.  There 
were  no  dull  Sundays  or  any  other  dull  days 
for  me  then. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
HARD  LABOUR 

I  HAVE  been  anticipating  a  bit  and  must 
get  back  to  my  second  week  in  gaol.  When 
I  had  been  in  the  "Boodwoor"  for  a  week  with 
nothing  to  occupy  my  hands  all  the  time,  I  was 
taken  to  a  cell  on  the  "Twos"  or  first  floor 
landing.  I  hadn't  been  in  possession  of  my 
new  abode  for  an  hour  when  I  received  a  visit 
from  a  warder  who  was  accompanied  by  two 
prisoners  carrying  a  sort  of  stool  with  a  pair  of 
scales  on  it,  and  a  box  containing  chopped  pieces 
of  rope,  while  another  prisoner  followed  behind 
with  a  sack  on  his  shoulders. 

A  quantity  of  the  rope  was  put  on  the  scale 
and  a  pretence  made  of  weighing  it.  Then  it 
was  pitched  into  my  cell. 

"  Slip  into  that  now,"  said  the  warder.  "  You're 
tasked  to  do  that  lot  in  a  day,  you  know." 

"  What  have  I  got  to  do  with  it  ?  "   1  asked. 

"Never  been  in  prison  before?"  he  asked 
suspiciously. 

190 


HARD   LABOUR  191 

I  replied  in  the  negative,  and  he  signed  to  one 
of  the  men  with  him.  The  man  came  into  my 
cell,  sat  down  on  my  stool,  and  showed  me  how 
to  unravel  the  pieces  of  rope,  while  the  man  with 
the  sack  took  a  handful  of  the  finished  product 
out  and  showed  it  to  me. 

It  was  lightly  twisted  coir  rope,  not  tarred 
hemp  which  is  the  rope  that  oakum-pickers  have 
to  deal  with,  and  the  picking  it  into  fibre  was  as 
hard  work  as  whittling  a  soft  stick  with  a  sharp 
penknife  would  be.  I  found  it  a  pleasant  pastime, 
as  the  light  employment  for  the  fingers  made 
the  thoughts  flow  easily,  and  time  went  by  as 
rapidly  as  could  be  desired.  Notwithstanding 
the  warder's  injunction  to  "  slip  into  it,"  there 
was  never  any  pretence  of  making  me  do  any 
specified  quantity,  and  I  did  just  as  much  as 
suited  me.  I  always  had  the  sense  to  pretend  to 
be  very  hard  at  work  when  the  governor,  deputy- 
governor,  or  chief  warder  was  knocking  about, 
and  that  was  apparently  all  that  the  work-warder 
expected  of  me. 

When  I  had  been  in  prison  ten  days  the 
warder  in  charge  of  my  landing  brought  me  a 
mattress  as  an  intimation  that  my  bare  plank 
period  was  over. 

"  But    I   have   only   been   here   ten   days,"   1 


192  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

objected,  "  and  I  am  not  entitled  to  it  for  another 
four  days  yet." 

"  Take  it  in  and  be  thankful,"  he  rejoined. 
"You  was  transferred  to  me  as  being  entitled  to 
your  bed  to-da}^,  and  here  it  is.  I've  got  enough 
troubles  of  my  own  without  worrying  myself 
over  other  people's  mistakes.  If  you'll  take  my 
tip,  you  won't  put  yourself  out  if  you're  offered 
anything  you're  not  entitled  to  in  here ;  they're 
not  likely  to  make  many  mistakes  that  way." 

I  took  the  mattress  and  was  thankful,  for 
even  with  the  mitigation  I  had  been  lucky 
enough  to  secure  downstairs,  the  bare  plank  was 
rather  inconvenient,  and  I  had  been  exposed  to 
the  full  rigour  of  it  since  I  came  upstairs  four 
days  before.  That  coir  fibre  mattress  seemed  to 
me  to  be  the  ver^^  last  word  in  comfort  that 
night. 

About  a  fortnight  after  this  I  was  transferred 
to  "  B  "  Hall,  which  was  a  great  change  for  the 
better,  inasmuch  as  I  now  had  a  cell  with  a 
boarded  floor  instead  of  the  asphalte  which  is 
the  rule  in  "  A "  Hall.  There  was  also  an 
absence  of  the  clanging  and  banging  that  went 
on  all  day  in  "A"  Hall,  as  "  B  "  Hall  is  devoted 
to  the  manufacture  of  mail-bags  for  the  post- 
office  and  bed-casings  for  the  army. 


HARD   LABOUR  193 

I  was  located  here  on  the  top  floor,  or  the 
"  Fours,"  as  the  top  landing  is  called  in  prison, 
and  was  set  to  sewing  brown  canvas  casings 
for  army  beds.  These  casings  are  made  in 
three  pieces,  and  the  sewing  required  is  simple 
backstitching  with  an  ordinary  sewing-needle  and 
waxed  thread.  It  could  hardly  be  described 
truthfully  as  hard  labour  for  a  girl  of  fourteen, 
and  for  a  man  it  was  simply  child's  play.  I  was 
six  months  on  these  cases  with  an  occasional 
change  to  mail-bags,  which  work  was  just  a 
trifle  harder,  and  I  jogged  along  very  comfortably 
on  about  one  case  a  day,  which  was  less  than 
half  of  what  I  was  supposed  to  do  according  to 
the  labour  card.  Beyond  saying  occasionally 
that  he  wished  I  would  try  and  do  a  little  more, 
the  work-warder  never  worried  me,  and  my  days 
passed  peacefully  and  happily,  which  is,  I  take 
it,  hardly  the  effect  aimed  at  by  our  prison 
system. 

If  one  worked  the  hours  supposed  to  be 
devoted  to  labour  they  would  only  amount  to 
about  six  hours  a  day ;  that  is  to  say,  an  hour 
before  breakfast,  an  hour  and  a  half  between 
breakfast  and  dinner,  and  three  hours  and  a  half 
between  dinner  and  supper.  But  as  there  is 
practically  no  supervision  over  the  eighty  or  so 
o 


194  A   HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

per  cent,  of  the  prisoners  who  work  in  their 
cells,  they  can  work  or  not  as  they  please  during 
these  hours,  provided  they  manage  to  turn  out 
enough  work  to  satisfy  the  work-warders.  As 
the  work-warders  are  pretty  easily  satisfied, 
there  are  few  prisoners  work  the  full  labour 
time  if  they  can  find  something  else  to  do.  I 
never  worked,  or  played  at  working  rather, 
for  more  than  four  hours  a  day  during  all  the 
time  that  I  worked  in  my  cell,  which  was  for 
the  first  ten  months  of  my  sentence,  and  as 
far  as  I  could  ascertain  no  other  prisoners  did 
more  as  long  as  they  had  something  to  read. 

Yet,  strange  to  say,  Wormwood  Scrubs  has 
a  bad  name  among  habitual  criminals.  I  have, 
over  and  over  again,  heard  old  hands  abuse  it  as 
being  the  strictest  prison  in  their  experience, 
and  one  of  them  told  me  that  he  "would  a'  most 
as  soon  be  in  the  work'us."  I  also  saw  many 
remarks  to  the  same  effect  scratched  on  the 
whitewash  in  the  conveniences  in  the  exercise 
yard,  one  of  them  running— "This  is  the  wustest 
stir  as  ever  was."  What  must  the  favourite 
prisons  of  the  criminal  be  like? 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
*'THE  FERRET" 

THE  warder  in  charge  of  the  "Fours"  in 
"B"  Hall  in  my  time  was  a  little  sharp 
cockney  who  was,  by  the  prisoners,  nicknamed 
"  The  Ferret."  And  a  very  apt  nickname  it  was 
too.  He  was  a  very  decent  chap  indeed  when 
one  got  to  know  him,  and  I  never  knew  him  to 
report  any  one  unless  he  was  absolutely  obliged 
to  do  so.  One  of  the  few  prisoners  I  knew  him 
to  report  was  my  next-door  neighbour  on  the 
right,  and  him  he  reported  so  often  that  the  poor 
devil  seemed  to  me  to  be  passing  about  half 
his  time  on  bread  and  water.  He  was  a  young 
fellow,  not  yet  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  the 
conviction  he  was  then  serving  out  was  his 
eleventh.  He  would  neither  wash  himself  if  he 
could  help  it,  nor  would  he  keep  his  cell  clean, 
and  the  warder,  after  standing  this  sort  of  thing 
as  long  as  he  could,  would  report  him,  and  he 
would    get    three   days'    bread   and    water.      I 

195 


196  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

thought  at  the  time  that  a  much  better  way  of 
dealing  with  him  would  have  been  to  hand  him 
over  to  three  or  four  clean  prisoners  and  let 
them  teach  him  cleanliness  in  their  own  way  ; 
but  of  course  such  a  proceeding  would  never 
be  countenanced  under  our  ultra-humanitarian 
prison  system. 

The  Ferret  fell  foul  of  me  on  one  occasion.  In 
every  cell  there  hangs  a  card  drawing  prisoners' 
attention  to  the  Prisoners'  Aid  Society,  and 
giving  instructions  as  to  how  to  go  to  work  to 
obtain  the  assistance  of  that  organisation.  The 
card  hanging  in  my  cell  was  dirty  and  dilapidated 
and  The  Ferret  brought  me  a  new  one.  Now  I 
was  in  the  habit  of  using  the  old  card  as  a  sort  of 
dustpan  to  collect  the  sweepings  of  my  floor  and 
put  the  dust  outside  my  door  for  the  cleaners  to 
take  away.  I  did  the  same  thing  with  the  new 
card,  and  went  off  to  chapel  unconscious  of 
having  done  The  Ferret  any  wrong. 

I  had  no  sooner  got  back  from  chapel, 
however,  than  he  came  to  my  cell  and  spoke  to 
me  very  rudely  indeed. 

"  I  shall  report  you,"  he  said,  "  if  I  catch  you 
using  your  Aid  card  to  put  dust  on  any  more. 
Here  am  I  doin'  every  mortal  thing  in  my  power 
to  make  you  happy  and  comfortable,  even  going 


"THE   FERRET"  197 

out  of  my  way  to  get  you  a  nice  new  card,  that 
I  wasn't  obliged  to  do  at  all,  and  you  go  and 
make  a  dustpan  of  it.  Chaps  like  you  are 
enough  to  break  a  feller's  'art." 

"  It  is  only  clean  dust  here,"  I  said  soothingly, 
"and  wouldn't  do  the  card  any  harm." 

"  Yus  it  would,"  he  replied.  "  When  you  get 
a  nice  clean  new  card  like  that  you  shouldn't 
touch  it  at  all.  If  you  must  use  a  card  for  your 
dust,  use  your  prayer-card ;  that's  dirty  enough 
now  and  won't  hurt." 

And  as  he  said,  so  it  happened :  henceforth 
the  card  that  was  supposed  to  guide  my  morning 
and  evening  devotions  became  my  dustpan,  and 
I  daily  blew  the  dust  off  the  Prisoners'  Aid 
Society  Card  as  it  hung  on  the  wall,  not  daring 
to  finger  it. 

When  I  had  been  a  member  of  The  Ferret's 
flock  for  about  six  months,  and  thought  that  I  was 
settled  down  for  the  rest  of  my  sentence,  he  cast 
me  out  as  an  undesirable,  and  I  was  returned  to 
the  residuum  in  "  A  "  Hall. 

I  was  a  bit  hurt  at  the  time,  for  I  had  been 
hugging  the  belief  that  I  was  a  model  prisoner 
and  that  the  warder  would  not  part  with  me 
while  there  was  any  one  else  left  to  part  with, 
but  1  soon  came  to  see  The  Ferret's  point  of  view 


198  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

and  am  convinced  that  I  would  have  done  as  he 
did  had  I  been  in  his  place. 

In  short,  I  had  got  into  the  habit  of  giving 
The  Ferret  trouble,  and  he  didn't  see  why  he 
should  put  up  with  it.  The  trouble,  both  for 
me  and  for  The  Ferret,  arose  in  this  way : 

I  always  had  a  loaf  of  bread  a  day  that  I 
could  not  eat,  and  for  some  time  I  passed  it  on 
to  one  of  the  cleaners  who  had  confided  to  me 
that  he  couldn't  sleep  o'  nights  for  the  hunger 
that  tormented  him.  One  day  The  Ferret  saw 
me  passing  the  loaf,  and  told  me  paternally  that 
it  was  a  very  wrong  thing  to  do.  Now  I  didn't 
want  to  be  reported  for  doing  a  thing  like  that, 
for  if  1  had,  it  would  certainly  mean  my  staying 
another  three  days  in  prison,  as  well  as  having 
three  days  bread  and  water  on  the  spot,  so  I 
struck  the  idea  of  handing  over  the  daily  surplus 
loaf  to  The  Ferret  himself  If  I  had  known 
what  a  mean  and  paltry  revenge  I  was  taking 
I  would  not  have  done  it,  but  I  didn't  know  it 
for  long  afterwards,  when  it  was  too  late.  It 
appeared  that  my  handing  that  loaf  to  the 
warder  imposed  upon  him  the  task  of  entering 
it  in  a  book  called  "  The  Returned  Food  Book," 
which  is  so  seldom  used  that  it  is  not  taken  into 
account  when  a  warder  reckons  up  his  clerical 


"THE  FERRET"  199 

duties,  and   returning  the  loaf  to  the  kitchen, 
where  it  caused  further  trouble. 

Naturally  enough,  when  The  Ferret  was 
requested  one  day  to  send  half  a  dozen  strong 
able-bodied  men  over  to  "A"  Hall  for  the 
purpose  of  being  employed  on  turning  the  crank 
of  the  rope-making  machine,  his  thoughts  turned 
to  me,  though  he  must  have  had  some  slight 
doubt  in  his  mind  as  to  whether  I  properly 
came  under  the  definition,  and  to  "A"  Hall  I 
went  accordingly,  much  to  my  indignation  and 
distress,  for  I  was  very  comfortable  in  "B" 
Hall  and  my  wildest  hopes  did  not  picture  me  as 
being  anywhere  near  so  well  off  elsewhere. 
One  never  knows,  however,  how  the  most  un- 
promising prospects  are  going  to  turn  out,  and 
in  this  case  the  change  was  all  for  the  better  and 
I  blessed  The  Ferret  in  my  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
HARD    IDLENESS 

AS  soon  as  I  got  over  to  "A"  Hall   I  was 
promptly    rejected    with     contempt     for 
crank-turning  work,  the  opinion  as  to  my  worth- 
lessness  being  cordially  endorsed  by  me,  and  I 
was  put  into  a  cell  on  the  top  floor,  from  whence 
I   could,   by  climbing   up   to   the   window,   see 
football   matches  and  cricket  matches  in   their 
respective  seasons  being  played  on  the  adjacent 
Scrubs,  and  could  also  take  a  look  at  the  country 
whenever  I  felt  disposed  to  do  so.    There  were 
also  musical  evenings  twice  a  week  for  some 
months,  provided  by  some  friends  of  my  next- 
door  neighbour,  who  used  to  come  and  stand 
under  the  prison  wall  with  a  cornet,   a  fiddle, 
and  a  banjo,  and  play  such  tunes  as  "  Down  by 
the  Suwanee  River."    They  always  finished  up 
with   "Auld   Lang  Syne"   and   "Home    Sweet 
Home,"    after    which    they    would     shout     in 
chorus :  "  Good   night,  Billy.      Be  a  good  boy 
and  get  on  with  your  oakum." 

200 


HARD   IDLENESS  201 

My  neighbour  on  the  other  side  even  managed 
to  do  a  little  flirting  over  the  wall.  One  evening 
he  shouted  to  a  girl  who  was  walking  in  the 
field,  and  struck  up  a  conversation  with  her. 
She  came  many  times  after  that  until  the  gay 
Lothario  got  tired  of  her  and  told  her  that  it 
was  no  use  her  waiting  for  him  as  he  was  "in 
for  life." 

They  made  mail-bags  on  the  top  floor  of  "A" 
Hall,  like  they  did  in  the  hall  I  had  come  from, 
but  I  was  not  considered  worthy  of  being 
employed  in  this  way,  and  was  put  on  picking 
fibre  again,  which  is  almost  tantamount  to  saying 
that  I  had  all  my  time  at  my  own  disposal. 

Free  from  all  care,  able  to  eat  the  prison  food 
with  enjoyment,  and  with  practically  as  many 
books  as  I  wanted,  I  had  an  enviable  time  of  it ; 
and  I  often  thought  with  something  like  dismay 
of  the  time  when  I  would  be  compelled  to  again 
mix  in  the  busy  world  and  be  worried  by  the 
landlord  and  the  rate-collector.  Our  prisons 
would  have  to  be  considerably  enlarged,  I  think, 
if  struggling,  harassed  men  realized  what  a 
haven  of  rest  they  provide  for  those  who  are  in 
danger  of  breakdown  from  sheer  worry. 

My  next  door  neighbour,  the  Lothario,  was  a 
barber,  who  was  in  for  stealing  inclosures  from 


202  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

letters  addressed  to  persons  occupying  offices 
in  the  building  of  which  his  shop  formed  the 
ground  floor.  His  "hard  labour"  consisted  in 
cropping  the  heads  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  and 
a  very  nice  job  he  had,  for  the  hair-cutting  is 
done  in  the  open  air  at  exercise  time,  and  as 
there  were  three  or  four  separate  "exercises" 
of  eighty  men  in  the  hall,  he  was  in  the  open  air 
for  three  or  four  hours  a  day  with  every  facility 
for  gossip  pour  passer  le  temps.  He  was  a  very 
cheerful  and  optimistic  character,  as  was  in  fact 
my  neighbour  on  the  other  side,  and  we  got  on 
famously  together.  He  used  to  say  jocosely 
that  he  had  always  had  an  ambition  to  work  at 
his  trade  in  the  West  End  of  London,  but  was 
afraid  that  he  had  overshot  the  mark  this  time 
and  got  too  far  west. 

My  neighbour  on  the  other  side  was  a  medical 
student  who  was  serving  an  imprisonment  of 
fifteen  months  for  obtaining  cash  for  a  worthless 
cheque,  and  the  friends  who  used  to  come  and 
serenade  him  were  medical  students  also.  His 
case  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very  hard  one. 
According  to  his  own  account  the  cheque  had 
been  given  to  him  in  payment  of  a  card  debt,  and 
he  had  no  idea  that  it  was  not  a  good  one. 
Unfortunately  he  had  previously  been  fined  for 


HARD   IDLENESS  203 

being  in  unlawful  possession  of  some  billiard- 
balls  that  had  been  taken  from  a  public  billiard- 
room.  This  counted  as  a  previous  conviction 
and  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  the 
severe  sentence.  He  explained  this  conviction, 
by  saying  that  the  balls  were  in  his  possession 
as  the  result  of  a  practical  joke.  He  and  some 
other  students  in  a  rather  elevated  condition 
had  been  playing  billiards,  and,  in  coming  away, 
one  of  the  others  had  slipped  the  balls  into  his 
overcoat  pocket  without  his  knowledge,  which 
is  an  extremely  likely  thing  to  happen,  and  has, 
in  fact,  happened  to  me.  The  balls  were  missed, 
and  he  was  followed  and  given  into  custody, 
being  in  the  result  fined  forty  shillings.  He 
told  me  all  this  with  such  a  truthful  air,  and 
seemed  such  a  decent  fellow,  that  I  could  not 
help  but  believe  him,  though  it  does  seem  hard 
to  credit  that  the  magistrate  paid  no  heed  to  his 
explanation  if  it  was  so  obvious  as  he  made  it 
out  to  be.  I  asked  him  what  effect  his  conviction 
would  have  upon  his  career,  and  he  considerably 
astonished  me  by  replying  that  he  did  not  antici- 
pate that  it  would  have  any  effect  beyond  the 
loss  of  time,  as  the  authorities  of  the  medical 
school  he  was  attending  took  the  view  that  he  had 
been  guilty  of  nothing  more  than  carelessness 


204  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

and  were  willing  to  take  him  back.  He  didn't 
know  anything  about  the  dodge  of  getting 
books  sent  in,  so  I  put  him  up  to  it,  and  he  was 
able  to  minimise  the  waste  of  time  by  getting 
text-books  for  study. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 
AN  ATTEMPTED  ESCAPE 

ONE  Saturday  afternoon,  while  I  was  in  this 
cell,  I  witnessed  the  only  attempt  at  escape 
that  occurred  in  the  prison,  as  far  as  I  know, 
while  I  was  an  inmate.  I  was  perched  up  at  my 
window  as  usual,  watching  a  football  match,  when, 
casting  my  eyes  down  into  the  prison  yard,  I  saw 
a  prisoner  rush  round  the  corner  of  the  block 
and  make  for  the  wall.  He  had  a  sort  of  roughly 
made  ladder  over  his  shoulder,  and  placing  this 
against  the  boundary  wall  of  the  prison,  he 
commenced  to  mount  it.  The  ladder  was  a  long 
piece  of  scantling  to  which  cross-pieces  had  been 
nailed  so  as  to  leave  a  foothold  on  the  projecting 
ends.  When  he  was  about  half-way  up,  the  con- 
traption turned  over  and  left  him  hanging  on  the 
underside,  like  a  monkey  on  a  stick,  and  this 
happened  two  or  three  times ;  but  he  tried  over 
and  over  again,  and  at  last  got  his  hands  on  the 
top  of  the  wall,  when  he  stopped  to  take  breath. 
Up  till  now,  he  did  not  appear  to  have  been 

205 


2o6  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

missed,  and  some  people  will  no  doubt  argue  that 
it  was  my  duty  to  give  the  alarm.  I  don't  think 
that  it  would  have  been  a  sportsman-like  thing  for 
me  to  have  done  so,  and  I  did  nothing.  Things 
were  in  this  interesting  position  when  the  sound 
of  a  measured  tramp  coming  along  the  landing 
in  my  direction  warned  me  that  a  warder  was 
approaching  and  that  it  was  therefore  necessary 
for  me  to  get  down  as  the  officer  might  look  in  on 
me  and  consider  it  his  duty  to  report  my  breach  of 
regulations,  for  it  was  forbidden  to  climb  up  and 
look  out  of  the  windows. 

When  I  got  up  again,  after  the  warder  had 
passed,  I  saw  the  prisoner  over  on  the  free  side 
of  the  prison  wall,  running  across  country  for  all 
he  was  worth,  while  the  footballers  suspended 
their  game  to  stare  after  him.  No  one  appeared 
to  be  pursuing  him  at  the  moment,  but  some  one 
must  have  gone  round  to  the  prison  gate  and 
given  the  alarm,  or  the  man  must  have  been 
missed  from  within,  for  a  few  minutes  afterwards 
a  posse  of  warders  appeared  and  started  off  in 
the  direction  taken  by  the  fugitive,  who  had  now 
got  out  of  sight.  More  warders  presently 
appeared  on  the  scene,  and  as  long  as  there  was 
sufficient  light  I  saw  them  spread  out  searching 
the  country,  apparently  without  success, 


AN   ATTEMPTED   ESCAPE  207 

I  heard  next  morning  in  chapel  that  the  man 
was  eventually  discovered  hiding  in  a  ditch  by 
two  boys,  sons  of  warders,  who  were  out  bird- 
nesting,  and  that  the  boys  had  dissembled  their 
discovery,  so  as  to  leave  the  escaped  prisoner 
under  the  impression  that  they  had  not  seen  him 
at  all,  until  they  met  a  party  of  warders  and  led 
them  to  the  spot.  It  was  reported  that  the 
governor  made  the  two  boys  a  present  of  two 
pounds  each,  and  that  the  poor  devil  of  a 
prisoner  was  very  roughly  handled  by  the  warders 
who  captured  him,  which  was  very  likely  the 
case,  as  warders  do  that  kind  of  thing  I  am 
afraid. 

The  version  of  the  escape  that  came  round  to 
me  was  to  the  effect  that  the  man  was  a  carpenter 
who  had  only  a  few  weeks  more  to  serve,  and 
that  he  had  been  left  unattended  in  the  carpenter's 
shop  on  that  afternoon  sufficiently  long  for  him 
to  improvise  the  ladder  to  get  over  the  wall. 
How  he  managed  to  get  out  of  the  building  with 
his  ladder  over  his  shoulder  I  never  heard,  and 
that  was  the  most  interesting  part,  for  it  must 
have  required  either  remarkable  ingenuity  or  an 
astonishing  amount  of  bluff. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 
THE   SUSPECTS 

FOLLOWING  closely  on  this  attempted 
escape  there  was  a  remarkable  upset  in 
the  prison.  All  the  prisoners  in  one  of  the  halls 
were  turned  out  of  their  beds  one  night  and 
thoroughly  searched  to  discover  those  who  were 
concerned  in  alleged  extensive  trafficking  opera- 
tions. I  cannot  say  anything  about  this  incident 
from  my  own  personal  knowledge,  because  it  did 
not  occur  in  my  hall,  but  I  overheard  a  prisoner 
who  had  been  concerned  in  it,  and  who  had  been 
transferred  to  my  hall  afterwards,  give  a  most 
interesting  account  of  it  in  chapel.  I  made 
a  note  of  this  at  the  time,  and  reproduce  it 
here  in  the  man's  own  words  as  nearly  as 
possible : 

"Yes,  they  had  a  fine  time,"  he  said,  in  answer 
to  a  question.  "They  cased"  (confined  to  cell 
with  all  furniture  taken  out  and  fed  on  bread  and 
water)  "  about  twenty-four  in  the  hall  together, 
mostly  on  the  'twos'  and  'threes.'    There  was 

208 


THE  SUSPECTS  209 

about  twenty  found  with  'snout,'  and  a  good 
many  with  cheese  and  eggs.  I  had  about  two 
ounces  of  thin  twist  in  my  cell,  but  they  didn't 
find  it,  and  they  didn't  find  any  grub  either, 
though  I  had  plenty  sent  in.  I  don't  believe  in 
keeping  any  of  that  stuff  about,  so  I  alius  wolfed 
it  as  soon  as  the  screw  gev  it  to  me.  Directly 
after  locking  up,  when  I'd  just  had  time  to  get 
into  bed,  my  door  was  opened  and  two  screws 
and  a  principal  comes  in. 

"  'Git  up,'  sez  the  principal. 

"  I  knowed  what  was  up  in  a  minute,  but  I  was 
on  velvet  meself,  'cos  I  knowed  as  they'd  find 
nothin'  in  my  place  or  on  me. 

"  ',Take  off  your  shirt,'  sez  the  screw  ;  an'  I 
took  it  off  an'  stood  there  shivering  as  naked  as 
I  was  born. 

"  They  turned  me  shirt  inside  out,  and  went 
over  me  as  I  stood  there  naked,  as  if  they 
expected  to  find  that  I'd  got  pockets  in  my 
skin. 

"Then  they  took  my  other  clothes  and 
turned  them  inside  out,  searched  the  seams,  an' 
all  that  kind  of  thing.  After  they  had  done  this, 
they  pitched  all  my  clothes  on  to  the  landing  out- 
side the  cell  and  told  me  to  go  out  and  put 
'em  on. 


210  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

"  While  I  was  outside  they  turned  over 
my  cell.  One  o'  the  screws  ripped  up  my 
mattress  and  turned  out  all  the  fibre,  while  the 
other  two  went  over  the  whole  cell,  as  they 
thought,  but  didn't  find  nothin'. 

" '  I  carn't  make  it  out,'  sez  that  screw  wi'  the 
nose  as  is  on  probation  for  principal.  'The 
whole  place  stinks  of  tobacco.' 

" '  Yus,  sir,'  sez  I,  'it's  them  blokes  in  the 
work'us'"  (the  workhouse  infirmary  is  next  door 
to  the  prison).  " '  They  smokes  very  strong  snout, 
an'  I  leaves  the  ventolator  open  so's  I  can  get  a 
sniff  of  it.' 

"  '  Ah  ! '  sez  the  screw,  '  that's  it,  is  it  ?  You 
ain't  dropped  it  through  the  vent'lator  I  suppose  ? 
Just  run  round  and  see  if  it's  outside,'  he  sez  to 
one  of  the  other  screws.  They  never  come  back 
to  me  an'  I  didn't  expect  'em,  because  I  knowed 
as  they'd  find  nothing  outside." 

"  Where  was  it,  then  ? "  asked  the  man  he 
was  talking  to. 

"  Why,  I'd  got  a  lot  of  fibre,  you  know,  for 
wet  days  an'  Saturday  afternoons,  when  we  don't 
go  on  the  works,  an'  I  alius  hid  my  snout  by 
putting  a  little  bit  in  the  centre  of  a  bit  of  rope 
and  twisting  it  up  agen." 

"  I  don't  see  anythin*  clever  about  that,"  said 


THE  SUSPECTS  211 

the  other  drily,  "they  must  ha'  been  mugs  not 
to  tumble  to  it." 

"  Well,  they  are  mugs ;  didn't  you  know  that  ? 
If  they  wasn't  mugs,  they  wouldn't  take  on  a  job 
like  theirs.  Why,  a  chap  on  the  'Twos'  had 
his  snout  in  his  hand  all  the  time  they  was 
searching  him  and  they  never  found  it,  an' 
another  feller  had  a  couple  0'  quid  in  his  cell 
that  they  never  tumbled  to,  'cause  it  was  smeared 
over  with  wet  brickdust  and  stood  edgeways 
agin  the  wall  right  under  their  very  eyes." 

"Who  was  it  gev  the  game  away — did  you 
hear?"  asked  the  other. 

"Nobody  give  it  away  as  far  as  I  know;  it 
give  itself  away  by  bein'  carried  too  far.  It  was 
all  the  fault  of  an  adjectived  fool  that  was  rotten 
with  money  and  wanted  all  sorts  of  things 
brought  in.  He  wasn't  satisfied  with  a  bit  of 
snout,  an'  a  chop  or  steak  or  bit  of  'am,  an'  a 
drop  of  port  wine,  but  he  wanted  noosepapers  an' 
cigars  and  fancy  truck  of  all  kinds,  an'  the  screw 
took  to  bringin'  of  'em  in  because  there  was  any 
amount  of  money  knockin' about.  They  do  say 
that  he  was  at  the  screw  ter  bring  him  in  a 
mouth-organ,  but  the  screw  struck  at  that,  an' 
told  him  that  he  barred  mouth  organs  an'  even 
grand  pianos." 


212  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

"  It's  alius  the  way,"  sighed  the  other ;  "  when 
you've  got  a  screw  properly  straightened  there's 
alius  somebody  spoils  the  game  by  being  to 
greedy  or  too  careless." 

"Look  out,  there's  the  Talking  Fish  got  his 
lamps  fixed  on  us,"  remarked  the  same  man 
suddenly  before  the  other  man  had  time  to 
speak,  and  the  conversation  ended. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 
"THE    TALKING   FISH" 

THE  Talking  Fish  was  a  warder  who  had  a 
watery,  fish-like  eye,  and  was  very  fond 
of  hearing  himself  talk.  He  was  very  strict  in 
chapel,  and  was  always  reporting  men  for  talking 
or  otherwise  misbehaving  there.  He  was  any- 
thing but  strict  outside,  however,  and  when  he 
was  in  charge  of  the  exercise  his  watery 
witticisms  did  much  to  enliven  the  monotony  of 
the  hour's  tramp  in  single  file  with  big  intervals. 
"  Now  then,  eighty-four,"  he  would  call  out, 
"  don't  wobble  about  like  a  paper  man  in  a  gale 
of  wind.  We  shall  have  to  send  you  to  the 
knackers  if  you've  got  the  staggers  " ;  or  to  a  man 
who  had  his  cap  on  "at  the  slope"  and  was 
marching  with  squared  shoulders  :  "  Very  pretty, 
seventy-two  ;  but  you  ain't  in  the  militia  now,  so 
we'll  have  your  cap  straight  on  your  head,  if 
you  please."  Or  again,  to  two  prisoners  talking: 
"  Now  then,  fifty-six  an'  fifty-seven,  haven't  you 
told  one  another  all  about  her  yet  ?    If  you've  got 

213 


214  A  HOLIDAY   IN  GAOL 

so  much  to  say  to  one  another,  you'd  better  ask 
the  governor  to  put  you  into  one  cell  together." 

"I've  got    my   eye  on    you,   forty-two,"    he 
shouted  to  me  one  day. 

"  I'm  not  talking,  sir,"  I  said  meekly. 

"No,  I  know  you  ain't;  but  you're  looking  as 
ifyou'dliketo." 

All  this  warder's  remarks,  except  in  chapel, 
were  made  in  a  bantering  tone,  which  took  all 
the  sting  out  of  them,  and  he  was  very  popular 
generally,  though  he  was  recognized  to  be  a 
very  dangerous  character  indeed  to  men  who 
happened  to  be  anywhere  in  his  neighbourhood 
in  chapel. 

It  was  The  Talking  Fish  who  gave  me  the 
only  report  I  got  in  prison,  and  it  was  for 
reading  the  Bible  in  chapel.  It  appeared 
that  there  was  an  old  prison  regulation  to  the 
effect  that  men  should  not  read  their  books  in 
chapel  except  when  the  service  was  actually  in 
progress,  but  this  was  not  on  the  rule-card 
supplied  to  prisoners  and  I  knew  nothing  about 
it.  Moreover,  I  had  done  it  regularly  for  months 
without  anything  being  said  to  me. 

"  I  shall  report  you,"  said  the  warder  to  me 
as  I  was  passing  out  of  chapel. 

I  smiled  and  thought  he  was  joking.     I  hadn't 


"THE  TALKING   FISH*'  2iS 

said  a  word  to  anybody  since  I  entered  tlie 
building.  It  is  true  that  he  had  somewhat 
arbitrarily  ordered  me  to  close  the  Bible  I  was 
reading;  but  I  had  done  so,  and  I  couldn't  con- 
ceive that  he  could  possibly  found  any  report 
on  that. 

The  first  intimation  I  had  that  he  was  in  grim 
earnest  was  on  the  next  morning,  when  I  was 
prevented  from  going  out  to  exercise  with  the 
men  on  my  landing,  and  was  kept  back  from 
chapel.  While  the  rest  of  the  men  were  in 
chapel  I  was  examined  by  the  doctor,  and  at  ten 
o'clock  I  was  brought  before  the  deputy  governor 
who  was  temporarily  acting  as  governor.  After 
he  had  heard  the  warder  state  that  I  was 
reading  a  book  in  church,  and  on  my  admitting 
that  I  was  reading  a  foreign  edition  of  the 
Bible,  he  "  admonished  "  me,  which  meant 
that  he  was  treating  me  just  the  same  as  he 
would  have  done  if  I  had  been  reported  for  any 
offence  but  a  very  serious  one ;  for  it  is  an  un- 
written law  that  a  prisoner  is  entitled  to  be  let 
off  with  a  caution  from  the  first  report  against 
him.  I  pointed  out  that  the  regulation  was 
quite  unknown  to  me,  as  it  was  not  mentioned 
on  the  "  Rule"  card,  and  that  it  was  not  a  case 
where  one's  own  sense  of  right  or  wrong  would 


2i6  A  HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

be  helpful ;  but  the  deputy  governor  refused  to 
dismiss  the  charge,  so  I  then  said  very  respect- 
fully that  I  wished  to  appeal  against  his  decision 
if  there  was  any  appeal  allowed.  He  got  angry 
at  this,  and  said :  "  You  can  see  who  the  devil 
you  like,  but  it  won't  make  any  difference." 

"All  right;  you  can  see  the  visiting  com- 
mittee," said  the  chief  warder  as  he  pushed  me 
out  of  the  room. 

About  a  month  afterwards  I  was  ushered 
into  the  presence  of  about  a  couple  of  dozen 
magistrates,  and  in  reply  to  the  chairman's 
question  as  to  what  1  had  to  complain  about,  I 
said  that  I  wished  to  complain  of  having  been 
made  the  subject  of  a  frivolous  complaint  by  one 
of  the  warders. 

"  What  was  the  subject  of  the  report  ?  "  asked 
the  chairman. 

"  Reading  the  Bible  in  church,"  I  replied. 

There  was  a  stir  of  astonishment  at  this,  and 
I  felt  that  every  eye  in  the  room  was  fixed  upon 
my  face. 

The  chairman  whispered  to  the  governor, 
who  handed  him  a  large  blue  sheet  of  paper. 

"  But  what  is  your  grievance  ? "  he  asked, 
turning  to  me.     "You  were  not  punished." 

"With  all  respect,  sir,  an  'admonition'  is  a 


"THE  TALKING   FISH"  217 

punishment,  because  it  disposes  of  the  only 
chance  I  am  supposed  to  get,  and  I  should  be 
punished  in  earnest  if  I  were  reported  again  for 
the  most  trivial  infraction  of  the  rules." 

"But  what  do  you  wish  us  to  do?"  asked 
the  chairman. 

"  I  wish  you  to  order  that  the  entry  against 
me  shall  be  expunged,"  I  said. 

"The  Home  Secretary  alone  could  do  that," 
replied  the  chairman,  "  and  you  may  petition  him 
to  that  effect  if  you  like.  I  do  not  think  that  we 
have  the  power  to  do  anything  at  all  for  you." 

"  I  will  undertake  that  the  entry  shall  not  be 
counted  against  him,"  said  the  governor;  "there 
seems  to  have  been  some  misunderstanding." 

"  Will  that  satisfy  you  ?  "  asked  the  chairman, 

"Quite,"  I  replied.  "  I  have  every  confidence 
that  the  governor  will  treat  me  fairly,  and  I  do 
not  think  that  it  would  have  been  necessary  to 
trouble  you  at  all  if  he  had  been  here  at  the 
time." 

Then  the  deputy  governor  got  up  as  I  was 
being  hustled  out,  to  explain  that  it  was  not  he 
but  his  predecessor  who  had  admonished  me. 

It  was  all  a  regular  storm  in  a  teacup;  but  I 
felt  very  bad  about  it  at  the  time,  and  if  the 
governor  had  not  caved  in  gracefully   I   would 


2i8  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

certainly  have  kicked  up  as  much  dust  over  the 
affair  as  my  heels  were  capable  of  raising 

I  don't  imagine  that  I  should  have  got  much 
change  out  of  petitioning  the  Home  Secretary, 
for  some  thousands  of  petitions  are  addressed  to 
him  every  year  by  prisoners,  and  I  never  heard 
of  one  that  elicited  any  other  than  the  stereotyped 
reply  that  "there  do  not  appear  to  be  any 
grounds  for  granting  the  prisoner's  request." 

Every  prisoner  has  the  right  to  petition  the 
Home  Secretary  whenever  he  likes,  in  reason, 
and  this  acts  as  a  valuable  safety  valve,  for 
when  in  the  petitioning  stage  of  his  imprison- 
ment a  man  does  not  know  that  he  might  just 
as  well  petition  the  old  woman  who  sells  apples 
and  oranges  at  Charing  Cross. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 
LIBRARIAN 

WHEN  I  had  six  months  still  to  serve  before 
my  release  the  schoolmaster  came  to 
my  cell  one  day  and  asked  me  if  I  would  like 
to  be  appointed  librarian.  There  was  nothing  I 
would  have  liked  better  and  I  jumped  at  the 
chance,  so  librarian  of  that  hall  I  became,  and 
kept  the  job  until  the  day  of  my  release. 

There  was  one  drawback,  and  this  was  that 
there  would  be  no  more  chance  of  viewing  foot- 
ball and  cricket  matches  in  the  summer  evenings 
and  on  Wednesday  and  Saturday  afternoons  all 
the  year  round,  but  this  was  a  minor  considera- 
tion in  face  of  the  great  privileges  attached  to 
my  new  job.  My  new  cell  was  situate  next  to 
the  library,  and  I  was  seldom  in  it  except  after 
supper  and  at  meal  times.  All  the  rest  of  the 
day  I  was  either  pottering  about  in  the  library, 
or  roaming  about  the  hall  with  one  or  other  of 
the  two  schoolmasters  changing  the  prisoners' 
books. 

219 


220  A  HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

It  takes  a  man  who  has  been  shut  up  in  a  cell 
by  himself  for  twenty-three  hours  of  the  twenty- 
four  for  a  month  to  appreciate  the  value  of  a 
book  to  a  prisoner. 

Men  who,  when  at  liberty,  never  think  of 
picking  up  a  book,  and  seldom  read  even  a 
newspaper,  take  full  advantage  of  their  library 
privileges  when  in  prison,  and  are  clamorous  to 
get  books  with  plenty  of  reading  in  them. 

To  the  prisoner  in  the  first  stage  the  longed- 
for  day  when  he  will  have  reached  stage  two  and 
be  entitled  to  one  book  a  week  from  the  prison 
library  seems  as  if  it  will  never  come.  When  it 
does  at  last  arrive,  and  the  creaking  of  the  book- 
basket  heralds  the  approach  of  the  schoolmaster, 
expectation  rises  to  fever  heat,  and  the  serving 
of  the  two  or  three  prisoners  immediately 
preceding  seems  to  take  an  unconscionable  time. 

At  last  the  basket  is  put  down  in  front  of  the 
cell  door  and  the  schoolmaster  turns  the  key  in 
the  lock. 

"  Give  me  your  blue  card,"  is  all  he  says  to 
the  prisoner. 

He  takes  the  library  card,  selects  a  book 
from  the  basket,  enters  it,  places  book  and  card 
on  the  cell  table,  and  closes  the  door.  This  is 
the  usual  procedure  of  the  old-fashioned  type  of 


LIBRARIAN  221 

schoolmaster,  who  generally  does  not  consult 
the  taste  of  the  prisoner  at  all,  and  contents 
himself  with  seeing  that  the  book  he  proposes  to 
issue  is  not  already  noted  on  the  card  as  having 
been  issued  before.  My  own  first  book  was 
dealt  out  to  me  in  this  manner,  and  it  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  I  could  almost  have  cried 
with  disappointment  when  I  found  that  it  was  a 
juvenile  book  of  some  three  hundred  pages  of 
large  print. 

Totally  unsuited  as  the  book  was  to  a  man  of 
my  tastes  and  education,  I  could  not  afford  to  be 
prodigal  with  it.  I  divided  it  into  seven  portions, 
and  successfully  resisted  the  very  strong  temp- 
tation to  anticipate  the  daily  allowance.  I  had  a 
hard  job  to  get  over  Sunday  without  encroach- 
ing on  the  unread  portion,  but  I  resolutely 
set  myself  to  continue  the  reading  of  the  Bible, 
which  had  been  my  recreation  during  the 
previous  month. 

The  old  type  of  schoolmaster  is,  however, 
dying  out,  and  is  being  replaced  by  a  class  of 
warder-schoolmasters  who,  if  not  so  highly 
educated,  are  more  complaisant  and  take  some 
trouble  to  consult  a  prisoner's  tastes.  My  chief, 
when  I  became  librarian,  was  one  of  the  best  of 
this  class.     No  trouble  was  too  great  for  this 


222  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

really  good  fellow  to  take  to  give  a  prisoner  the 
class  of  book  he  desired.  I  have  even  known 
him  to  take  the  library  catalogue  to  hypercritical 
prisoners  so  that  they  might  make  their  own 
selection,  and  at  any  time  he  would  allow  a 
man  to  take  his  pick  of  the  books  in  the 
basket. 

He  lightened  my  own  imprisonment  con- 
siderably before  I  became  librarian  by  bringing 
me  (they  are  not  kept  in  the  library  of  the  hall, 
being  general  to  the  prison)  books  in  French, 
German,  and  Italian,  of  which  there  are  a  fair 
number  in  this  prison  for  the  use  of  the 
numerous  foreigners  who  find  their  way  there. 
These  foreign  books  were  of  a  very  mixed 
character,  ranging  from  bound  volumes  of  a 
German  Sunday  school  magazine  to  Gustave 
Droz's  "  Monsieur,  Madame,  et  Bebe,"  which 
must  surely  have  got  there  by  mistake. 

After  the  second  month  of  imprisonment  a 
prisoner  may,  unless  he  forfeits  his  stage  privi- 
leges by  misconduct,  exchange  his  book  twice 
a  week,  except  bound  volumes  of  magazines, 
which  have  to  last  a  week,  and  there  are  few 
prisoners  who  do  not  avail  themselves  of  this 
privilege  to  the  full. 

The  class  of  literature  provided  is  somewhat 


LIBRARIAN  223 

disappointing  to  an  educated  man.  It  consists 
almost  entirely  of  sensational  fiction,  the  favourite 
authors  being  Miss  Braddon,  Mrs.  Henry  Wood, 
and  Besant,  in  the  order  named;  and  of  boys' 
books  of  the  Henty  and  Ballantyne  type,  with  a 
few  bound  volumes  of  the  popular  magazines. 
The  magazines  in  the  library  are  "  Good  Words," 
"Leisure  Hour,"  "Strand,"  "London,"  "Wide 
World  "  "  Windsor,",  "  Chums,"  and  "  Boy's  Own 
Paper,"  with  "  The  Lamp  "  for  the  special  use  of 
Roman  Catholics. 

The  most  popular  book  in  the  whole  prison 
library,  the  book  most  eagerly  sought  after  and 
appealing  to  almost  every  class  of  prisoner,  was 
undoubtedly  the  "London  Magazine";  and  all 
the  magazines  are  much  sought  after,  with  the 
exception  of  the  "Leisure  Hour"  and  "Good 
Words."  Most  prisoners  will  not  have  the  two 
latter  magazines  at  any  price  if  they  can  help 
it,  under  the  mistaken  impression  that  they  are 
mainly  composed  of  religious  or  semi-religious 
reading. 

Prisoners  are  terribly  afraid  of  any  reading 
with  a  suggestion  of  religion  in  it.  An  an  illus- 
tration of  this,  I  may  mention  that  Grant  Allen's 
"  Tents  of  Shem  "  was  given  to  a  man  who  was 
choked  off  by  the  title,  and  preferred  to  go  three 


224  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

days  without  any   reading    at   all   rather    than 
tackle  it. 

"Give  us  something  that  I  can  read,  please 
sir,"  he  said  pathetically  to  the  schoolmaster  on 
the  next  changing  day. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  with  this?"  asked 
the  astonished  schoolmaster,  holding  up  the 
book  named. 

"Oh,"  replied  the  man  with  disgust  in  his 
tone,  "I'd  rather  spend  my  time  tramping  round 
my  cell  than  in  readin'  any  o'  your  religious 
books." 

"But  this  is  not  religious,"  protested  the 
schoolmaster;  "it  is  a  novel  by  Grant  Allen, 
and  a  very  interesting  novel  too." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  kid  me,"  retorted  the  prisoner 
with  a  leer.  "  I  know  all  about  Shem-— read 
about  'm,  an'  'Am  and  Japhet  too,  in  the  Bible 
when  I  was  a  nipper.     Give  us  a  Braddon." 

"Miss  Braddon!  Miss  Braddon!"  is  the 
continual  cry,  and  the  prison  commissioners 
must  be  very  good  customers  indeed  to  that 
lady's  publishers. 

Another  prisoner  kept  "  Ivanhoe"  in  his  cell 
for  four  days,  including  a  Sunday,  because  he 
"  did  not  fancy  the  title." 

Of  solid  reading  and  of  classical  novels  there 


LIBRARIAN  225 

is  poor  provision.  There  were  only  odd  volumes 
of  Scott,  Dickens,  Thackeray  and  Fenimore 
Cooper;  "Monte  Christo"  was  the  sole  repre- 
sentative of  Dumas  ;  and  there  was  nothing  at  all 
by  George  Eliot  or  Meredith.  There  was  not  a 
single  volume  of  Carlyle ;  practically  no  standard 
works  of  History,  Biography  and  Travel ;  and 
the  supply  of  poetry  was  limited  to  a  few  odd 
volumes.  Such  books  as  "Jane  Eyre"  and 
"  Tom  Brown's  School  Days,"  which  one  would 
expect  to  find  in  any  library,  were  conspicuous 
by  their  absence. 

I  drew  the  schoolmaster's  attention  to  many 
of  these  deficiencies,  and  things  may  be  on  a 
better  footing  now  ;  but  the  state  of  the  library  in 
my  time  was  just  as  I  have  written  it.  The 
magazines  are  "  censored"  before  being  put  into 
circulation,  and  any  articles  that  it  is  considered 
that  prisoners  ought  not  to  read  are  cut  out. 
The  greatest  sufferer  in  this  respect  is  "The 
Wide  World";  indeed,  so  much  was  cut  out  of 
the  last  volumes  received  before  my  discharge 
as  to  constitute  a  very  serious  mutilation.  Sir 
Arthur  Conan  Doyle's  stories  were  excised  from 
"  The  Strand "  with  few  exceptions,  and  even 
The  "Leisure  Hour"  and  "Good  Words"  did 
not  escape. 
Q 


226  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

It  is  difficult  to  see  any  system  in  these 
mutilations,  for  two  very  objectionable  articles 
indeed,  from  the  prison  point  of  view,  were 
allowed  to  remain  in  "  The  London  Magazine  "  for 
1904.  These  articles  were  written  by  a  criminal, 
and  detailed  the  methods  he  followed  in  com- 
mitting some  crimes  for  which  he  was  never 
brought  to  account,  and  also  gave  instances  of 
criminals  getting  the  better  of  detectives. 
Surely,  if  there  is  any  reason  at  all  in  sub-editing 
the  magazines  for  prison  reading,  these  articles 
should  have  been  scissored  ;  but  there  they  were 
in  my  time,  and  there  they  are,  probably,  to 
this  day. 

Some  of  the  schoolmasters  allow  prisoners 
to  put  their  names  down  for  certain  books.  Both 
the  schoolmasters  in  my  hall  did  so ;  and  as  a 
consequence  there  was  always  a  waiting-list 
for  certain  books.  There  were  two  copies  of 
"Monte  Christo"  in  our  library,  and  the  book 
was  always  engaged  half  a  dozen  deep ;  and,  as 
some  evidence  of  the  number  of  old  soldiers  who 
find  their  way  to  prison  it  may  be  mentioned  that 
there  were  always  more  than  a  dozen  waiting 
their  turn  for  each  of  the  two  copies  of  "  Cassell's 
History  of  the  Boer  War,"  which  seemed  to  be 
almost  exclusively  read  by  men  who  had  served 


LIBRARIAN 


■yi 


^/ 


in  that  campaign.  The  bound  volumes  of  "  The 
London  Magazine"  and  "Chums"  had  also  a 
waiting-list  sometimes. 

As  librarian  I  had  excellent  opportunities  of 
conversing  with  and  studying  the  prisoners  in 
my  hall,  and  I  availed  myself  to  the  utmost  of 
my  chances  in  this  direction.  What  struck  me 
most,  I  think,  on  our  rounds  with  the  book- 
basket  was  the  few  prisoners  whom  we  caught 
at  work  when  the  cell  doors  were  opened.  For 
the  most  part  they  were  in  the  act  of  walking 
listlessly  about  the  cell  when  discovered,  as  if 
they  were  so  excited  at  the  prospect  of  getting 
another  book  to  replace  the  one  that  they  had 
probably  finished  a  couple  of  days  before  that 
they  could  do  nothing  but  feverishly  wait  for  it. 
Another  thing  that  obtruded  itself  on  my  notice 
was  the  weakness  that  most  prisoners  have  for 
pretending  to  be  what  they  are  not.  It  is  no 
uncommon  thing  to  find  the  whole  of  the  books 
of  an  educational  character,  which  the  prisoners 
may  have  possession  of  in  addition  to  the 
ordinary  library  book,  in  the  cells  of  men  who 
cannot  understand  them  and  have  no  intention 
of  trying  to  understand  them.  Such  men  have 
applied  for  the  books  and  got  them  to  the 
detriment  of  men  who  w^ould  really  make  proper 


228  A    HOLIDAY   IN    GAOL 

use  of  them,  simply  to  give  themselves  an  air  of 
superiority.  A  man  of  this  sort  really  "  swanked  " 
me  into  the  belief  that  he  was  an  exceptionally 
well-educated  man.  When  we  went  round  with 
the  book-basket  he  would  always  ask  for  a 
foreign  book,  and  I  consequently  took  some 
interest  in  seeing  that  there  was  always  a  foreign 
book  for  him.  The  language  did  not  seem  to 
matter  to  him ;  he  was  satisfied  if  he  could  get 
a  book  in  any  language  that  wasn't  English,  and 
I  got  to  look  upon  him  as  being  a  linguist 
of  somewhat  exceptional  ability,  though  I  never 
spoke  to  him  in  a  foreign  language,  as  the 
schoolmaster  had  forbidden  me  to  speak  to 
any  prisoner  in  any  language  but  English,  un- 
less I  was  required  to  act  as  interpreter, 
which  was  often  the  case.  One  day  I  hadn't 
got  a  foreign  book  that  this  prisoner  had  not 
already  had,  and  I  asked  the  schoolmaster  to 
bring  one  over  from  the  prison  office,  where 
the  books  common  to  the  whole  prison  were 
kept. 

"Oh  give  him  one  of  those  he  has  had 
already,"  said  the  schoolmaster  indifferently. 

This  was  a  staggerer  to  me,  for  if  there  is 
one  thing  that  a  schoolmaster  has  to  be  careful 
of,  it  is  not  to  give  a  prisoner  a  book  which  he 


LIBRARIAN  229 

has  already  had,  unless  of  course  he  specially 
asks  for  it. 

"Give  him  one  he  has  already  had!"  I 
gasped. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  enjoying  my  mystification, 
"he  won't  mind  a  bit." 

"  I'll  bet  he  will  mind,"  I  retorted  ;  "  he  doesn't 
seem  to  be  one  of  the  sort  that  takes  oppression 
lying  down." 

"Quite  right — he  isn't,"  rejoined  the  school- 
master smiling,  "but  he  won't  mind  for  all  that. 
He  won't  know  the  difference,  in  fact,  because  he 
can't  read  in  any  language,  not  even  English. 
He  has  these  foreign  books  because  he  thinks  it 
looks  well.  The  picture-books  that  we  have 
for  prisoners  who  can't  read  are  no  use  to  him, 
for  he  has  had  them  over  and  over  again  until  he 
is  sick  at  the  sight  of  them." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 
"SCHOLARS" 

ONE  would  think,  seeing  that  compulsory 
education  has  been  the  rule  for  nearly 
forty  years,  that  persons  who  cannot  read  and 
write  are  somewhat  difficult  to  find.  This  is 
not  the  case  in  prison  anyway,  or  it  wasn't  at 
Wormwood  Scrubs  in  my  time,  for  there  were 
quite  a  number  of  men  always  on  the  picture- 
book  list,  and  many  others  who  could  only  read 
very  easy  books,  for  whom  "The  Children's 
Friend"  and  "The  Prize,"  and  books  of  the 
same  class,  were  provided.  It  was  to  me  a 
curious  circumstance  that  nearly  all  these  men 
were  ashamed  of  their  illiteracy,  and  took  every 
opportunity  that  offered  of  making  excuses 
for  it. 

There  were  no  less  than  twelve  prisoners  in 
my  hall  at  one  time  who  claimed  to  have  had  a 
university  education,  and   I   do   not  think  that 

in  any  one  case  of  these  tw^elve  the  claim  was 

230 


"SCHOLARS"  231 

well  founded.  There  were  at  least  a  couple  of 
bond  fide  ex-university  men  in  the  hall,  and  very 
likely  more,  but  these  are  not  reckoned  in  the 
twelve,  as  they  never  made  any  claim  to  be 
better  educated  than  their  fellows,  and  if  they 
did  things  that  betrayed  their  education  they 
did  them  unobtrusively. 

One  of  the  twelve  claimed  to  be  a  Bachelor  of 
Music  of  Cambridge  at  one  time,  and  several 
months  afterwards  I  overheard  him  telling 
another  prisoner  that  he  was  a  Bachelor  of 
Medicine  of  London.  That  he  was  neither,  nor 
a  university  man  of  any  sort,  I  inferred  from  the 
fact  that  he  couldn't  read  a  verse  out  of  the 
Greek  Testament  he  had  got  by  special  applica- 
tion. Inability  to  read  a  Greek  Testament  is 
not,  of  course,  conclusive  evidence  against  any 
one  claiming  a  university  degree,  for  many 
degrees  can  now  be  got  without  a  knowledge  of 
Greek ;  but  the  fact  that  a  man  procures  a  book 
which  he  is  not  able  to  read  and  pretends  that 
he  can  read  it  fluently  is  a  pretty  safe  indication 
that  his  pretensions  to  a  university  education 
are  mere  bounce.  I  wondered  why  the  assistant- 
chaplain  had  looked  so  sceptical,  and  had  for- 
borne to  ask  me  for  particulars  when,  in  answer 
to  his  questions  as  to  my  education,  I  had  told 


232  A   HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

him  that  I  had  had  a  university  training ;  but  I 
knew  the  reason  before  I  had  been  librarian 
long — he  met  so  many  university  men  in  the 
course  of  this  duty  of  fixing  the  degree  of  a 
prisoner's  education  that  he  accepted  the  state- 
ment for  what  it  was  worth  and  said  nothing 
about  it. 

I  found,  too,  that  "  journalists  "  were"  almost 
as  plentiful  as  university  men,  and  that  their 
claims  were  about  as  well  founded.  I  met 
altogether  eleven  "journalists"  in  gaol;  but 
they  all  of  them  seemed  to  have  no  better  reason 
for  so  describing  themselves  than  some  ladies 
of  a  certain  class  have  for  describing  themselves 
as  "  actresses." 

One  particular  "journalist"  was  serving  his 
sixth  conviction,  his  offence  being  the  theft  of 
a  cash-box  from  a  public-house  where  he  was 
in  service  as  barman.  On  my  remarking  that 
serving  behind  a  bar  was  strange  work  for  a 
journalist  to  turn  his  hand  to,  he  told  me  that  he 
had  only  adopted  such  work  temporarily  until  a 
fitting  journalistic  job  turned  up.  He  must  have 
often  been  without  employment,  and  have  been 
"  called  to  the  bar,"  on  each  occasion,  inasmuch 
as  the  warder  told  me  that  his  other  five  con- 
victions were  all  for  thefts  while  occupying  the 


"SCHOLARS"  2S3 

position  of  barman.  This  man  got  through  his 
"hard  labour"  very  comfortably  by  painting 
the  words  "  Post  Office  Notices  "  on  the  pieces 
of  wood  which  may  be  seen  holding  the  notices 
in  any  post-office.  When  he  was  about  to  be 
discharged  he  told  the  chaplain  that  he  could 
earn  a  decent  living  by  painting  small  pictures 
and  selling  them  to  the  dealers,  and  the  chaplain 
gave  him  a  complete  outfit  to  start  him  in  this 
line.  I  have  watched  the  papers  pretty  closely 
since  my  discharge  to  see  how  many  of  my  old 
prison  acquaintances  are  going  back,  and  I  have 
not  seen,  so  far,  that  he  has  been  practising  his 
peculiar  form  of  "journalism "  again,  so  am 
hoping  that  the  painting  outfit  has  turned  up 
trumps. 

Another  "journalist,"  who  had  seven  previous 
convictions  "behind  "  him,  including  two  terms 
of  penal  servitude,  amused  us  by  his  affected 
aristocratic  speech  and  the  absurd  airs  he  put 
on.  He  used  to  address  me  as  "  my  good  man," 
and  he  would  talk  to  the  schoolmaster  as  if 
the  prison  officer  was  his  menial  servant.  The 
schoolmaster  was  a  very  sensible  sort  of  fellow, 
and  took  no  notice  of  people  like  this,  but  we 
often  used  to  laugh  over  them  when  we  were  in 
the  privacy  of  the  library.     This  particular  man 


234  A  HOLIDAY  IN  GAOL 

was  a  "  bunco  steerer  "  or  confidence  trick  man 
by  profession,  and  the  schoolmaster  told  me 
that  he  was  very  clever  at  the  game  too,  though 
how  people  could  be  found  who  would  be  taken 
in  by  him  passes  my  comprehension. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 
SEARCHES 

WHEN  going  round  with  the  books  on  one 
occasion,  I  witnessed  the  performance 
of  a  very  clever  trick  by  a  prisoner.  Men  who 
are  entitled  to  good  conduct  privileges  are 
allowed  to  have  their  cell  doors  open  for  two 
hours  on  alternate  afternoons,  Saturdays  and 
Sundays  excepted,  and  on  these  occasions  much 
is  done  that  is  not  contemplated  by  the  prison 
regulations.  Such  prisoners  as  have  managed  to 
make  a  shaving  instrument,  and  prisoners  make 
practicable  razors  out  of  many  things,  gener- 
ally takes  advantage  of  this  open-door  time  to 
sharpen  his  "  razor  "  on  the  slate  lintel.  On  this 
occasion  the  doors  on  the  right  side  of  number 
two  landing  were  open — when  the  doors  on 
one  side  of  a  landing  are  open  the  doors  on  the 
opposite  side  are  always  kept  closed — and  a 
principal  warder  going  along  the  top  landing  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  happening  to  look  down, 
saw  a  man  on  the  "  Twos  "  busily  engaged  in  the 

235 


2^6  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

razor-sharpening  process.  He  quickly  descended, 
and  presently,  in  company  with  the  warder  on 
duty  on  the  "Twos,"  he  paid  that  prisoner  a 
surprise  visit  in  the  full  confidence  that  he  would 
find  material  for  a  report. 

They  found  the  prisoner  busily  engaged  in 
sewing  his  mail-bag,  and  at  once  made  him  strip 
to  the  buff.  Having  thoroughly  searched  his 
clothing  after  he  had  taken  it  off,  they  sent  the 
prisoner  on  to  the  landing  to  put  it  on  again 
while  they  turned  the  cell  inside  out,  but  a 
minute  search  failed  to  bring  to  light  anything 
incriminating.  The  principal  warder  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  he  had  mistaken  the  cell,  and 
told  the  warder  accompan3nng  him  that  they 
would  search  the  cells  on  either  side  of  it,  and 
the  warder  went  to  the  cell  next  door  on  the  left 
to  tell  the  prisoner  to  strip.  The  principal 
warder  was  turning  away  to  follow  him,  when 
the  prisoner  whom  he  had  just  searched 
addressed  a  question  to  him,  and  he  stopped  to 
answer  it,  I  was  at  the  next-door  cell  on  the 
right  with  the  book-basket,  and  I  distinctly  saw 
the  prisoner  edge  gradually  up  to  the  principal 
as  he  stood  just  outside  the  doorway  and  take 
something  from  the  pocket  of  that  officer's 
jacket.     When    we    moved    up    to    the    cell    to 


SEARCHES  23; 

change  the  prisoner's  book,  the  principal  warder 
and  the  warder  who  accompanied  him  were 
searching  the  next-door  cell  further  on.  The 
schoolmaster,  wishing  to  speak  to  the  principal 
warder,  went  into  this  cell,  and  left  us  with  the 
book-basket  standing  at  the  door  of  the  cell  that 
had  been  searched. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  opportunity,  I 
inquired  what  had  been  the  matter. 

"Why,"  replied  the  searched  man  with  a 
chuckle,  "I  was  rubbin'  a  'chiv'  (knife)  on  the 
doorstep  when  the  principal  spotted  me  from  the 
'  Fours.'  I  see  him  going  along,  and  tumbled  as 
he'd  be  here  to  see  me  directly,  so  I  was  going 
to  chuck  the  chiv  out  of  the  vent'lator;  but  there 
was  an  exercise  out  in  the  yard,  and  the  screws 
would  have  seen  it,  so  that  was  no  good  ;  so  I 
put  it  up  my  sleeve  and  went  on  with  my  work, 
trusting  to  luck.  When  the  principal  came  in, 
he  stood  so  close  to  me  while  he  was  asking  me 
where  was  the  knife  he  had  seen  me  sharpening 
that  I  thought  at  once  that  1  might  as  well  shove 
the  chiv  into  his  pocket,  an'  I  done  it  at  once.  I 
didn't  expect  as  I  should  be  able  to  get  it  out 
again,  but  I  thought  as  I'd  try  when  he  was  goin' 
away  to  the  next  cell ;  so  just  as  he  was  turnin' 
away  and  had  his  side  pocket  just  under  my  nose, 


238  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

I  arsks  him  if  he  thought  as  it  'ud  be  any  good 
me  makin'  an  application  to  the  governor  for  a  job 
out,  and  as  he  was  tellin'  me  that  he  thought  as 
I'd  better  wait  a  week  or  two,  I  just  dipped  my 
hook  (hand)  in  and  got  it  again.     I  never " 

What  he  was  going  to  say  further  I  don't 
know,  as  just  then  the  schoolmaster  came  back 
and  said :  "  I  can't  go  away  for  a  minute  without 
you  fellows  start  talking.  Just  stand  away  from 
one  another,  and  keep  your  mouths  shut.  If  the 
deputy  governor  or  the  chief  warder  happened 
to  see  you  I  should  get  into  a  nice  old  row." 

It  is  surprising  what  risks  and  trouble  a 
prisoner  will  take  to  get  hold  of  something  with 
which  they  can  take  the  hair  off  their  faces.  The 
"knife"  this  prisoner  so  cleverly  concealed  on 
the  principal  warder's  person  was  simply  a 
shaped  bit  of  tin  which  is  lent  to  prisoners  on 
Thursdays  at  dinner-time  to  cut  up  their  meat, 
and  the  kind  of  shave  that  could  be  got  by  its  aid 
can  be  easily  imagined. 

Some  of  the  men  have  to  use  real  knives  for 
their  work,  and  these  have  to  be  looked  after 
very  strictly  indeed.  Should  one  be  missing,  it 
is  regarded  as  being  a  very  serious  matter,  and 
the  search  for  it  is  very  strict.  On  an  occasion 
such  as  this  no  man  in   the  hall   is  allowed   to 


SEARCHES  239 

leave  his  cell,  excepting  such  cleaners  as  are 
absolutely  necessary  to  collect  slops  and  carry 
the  meals  round,  and  these  men  are  locked  up 
again  as  soon  as  these  duties  are  performed. 
The  ordinary  cleaning  and  the  whole  routine 
work  of  the  hall  is  entirely  suspended,  the 
prisoners  not  being  allowed  to  take  in  their 
work  until  the  search  is  over,  so  that  sometimes 
a  whole  day  is  spent  in  absoluteidleness.  There 
is  no  chapel  and  no  exercise,  so  that  these 
searches  are  a  severe  punishment  to  every  one  in 
the  hall,  and  public  opinion  is  very  much  against 
any  man  doing  anything  that  will  lead  to  one. 

There  are  periodical  searches  by  the  warder 
in  charge  of  the  landing,  usually  about  once  a 
fortnight,  but  these  are  largely  a  matter  of  form. 
They  generally  took  place  in  the  afternoon,  and 
the  first  intimation  a  prisoner  had  of  them  was 
when  the  warder,  who  was  always  accompanied 
by  an  assistant-warder,  threw  open  the  cell  door 
and  ordered  the  inmate  to  take  his  bedding  out- 
side the  cell,  and  hang  it  on  the  rail.  This  done, 
the  assistant-warder  examined  the  bedding  by 
passing  his  hand  through  each  fold  of  the  bed- 
clothes, while  the  prisoner  took  off  his  coat  and 
waistcoat  and  handed  them  to  the  warder,  who 
examined   them   and  threw  them   on   the  floor. 


240  A  HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

The  prisoner  then  held  up  his  arms,  and  the 
warder  ran  his  hands  over  him  to  make  sure 
that  he  had  nothing  concealed  about  him. 
Finally  the  two  warders  looked  round  the  cell, 
flapped  the  ventilator,  and  poked  an  iron  searcher 
into  the  warm-air  grating. 

The  whole  operation  did  not  take  more  than 
a  couple  of  minutes,  and  it  was  certainly  not 
effectual  in  discovering  anything  that  a  prisoner 
took  any  pains  to  hide.  I  myself  kept  pen  and 
ink,  strictly  forbidden,  in  my  cell  for  many 
months  without  its  ever  being  discovered,  and 
used  the  same  pen  and  ink  every  day  without 
being  once  detected.  My  inkpot  was  a  tailor's 
thimble  stuck  into  a  piece  of  soap  cut  in  halves, 
one  half  being  made  to  fit  on  the  other  so  that 
the  whole  looked  like  a  solid  piece  of  soap,  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  the  thimble,  full  of  ink, 
was  inside.  This  piece  of  soap  always  stood  on 
my  shelf  in  the  place  allotted  to  soap,  where  it 
could  be  seen  by  anybody  as  soon  as  they 
entered  the  cell.  The  pen-nib  occupied  a  recess 
made  for  it  in  the  soap  next  to  the  inkwell. 
When  I  wanted  to  write,  I  would  tie  the  pen-nib 
on  to  the  handle  of  my  wooden  spoon,  which  was 
quite  round,  with  a  piece  of  thread,  and  set  to 
work  on  the  sanitary  paper.    When  the  ink-stand 


SEARCHES  241 

wanted  replenishing  and  I  was  not  entitled  to 
write  a  letter,   I  would  apply  to  the  governor 
for  permission  to  write  a  petition  to  the  Home 
Secretary,  which  was  given  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and  then  pen  and  ink  were  supplied  to  me  and  I 
replenished  my  little  inkwell  out  of  the  warder's 
bottle.     I  sent,  I  think,  fifteen   petitions   to  the 
Home  Secretary  during  my  imprisonment,  and 
in  every  case  the  moving  power  was  my  want  of 
ink,  and  not  any  feeling  that  I  had  a  grievance 
that  wanted  redressing.     I  wrote  a  novel  in  this 
way,  but  I  was  deprived   of  the  manuscript   a 
week  or  two  before  my  discharge  because  I  was 
fool  enough  to  tell  another  prisoner  that  I  had 
got  it.     This  prisoner  assured  me  solemnly  that 
the  warder  did  not  get  an}'  information  from  him  ; 
but  I  cannot  see  how  else  he  could  have  got  it, 
as  I  told  no  one  else.     At  any  rate  the  warder 
came  to  me   and  asked  me  point  blank  for  the 
manuscript,  saying,  handsomely  enough,  that  he 
didn't  want   to   deprive   me   of  it,  but  that  he 
would  himself  get  into  a  row  if  it  came  to  other 
ears  that  such  a  thing  was  in  existence,  and  that 
he  didn't  care  to  run  the  risk.     He  said  at  first 
that  he  would  give  me  the  stuff  back  again  on 
the  day  before  I  went  out ;   but  he   afterwards 
cried  off  that   bargain   on    the   ground   that   an 


242  A   HOLIDAY   IN    GAOL 

order  had  been  given  out  that  greater  strictness 
must    be    used   in   searching    prisoners    before 
discharge  to  see  that  they  carried  no  letters  for 
outside,  and  that  the  manuscript  would  certainly 
be  discovered  if  he  gave  it  back  to  me.     It  may 
be  that  I  could  have  had  it  forwarded  to  me  for 
a  consideration,  but  I  did  not  think  of  that  at  the 
time,  and  when  I  did  venture  to  mention   the 
subject  to  the  warder  some  time  afterwards,  and 
just  before  my  discharge,  he  said  that   he   had 
destroyed  it.     I  believe  that  it  would  have  been 
a   successful    novel,  which    is    not    altogether 
tantamount  to  saying  that  it  was  a  good   one, 
but  I  have  never  had  the  heart  to   re-write  it; 
indeed,  I  doubt  if  I  could  re-write  it.     Original 
ideas  do  not  come  so  freely  outside  as  they  did 
in  the  calm  atmosphere  of  the  prison  cell,  and 
felicities  of  expression   do   not   flow   so   easily 
from  the  pen.     But  although  the  labour  was  lost, 
I  cannot  say  that  it  was  wasted,  for  the  writing 
of  that  novel  provided  me  with  many  hours  of 
happiness. 

In  the  last  few  months  of  my  imprisonment 
I  sat  as  a  model  for  one  of  the  apostles.  I 
forget  which  one  it  was,  but  I  fancy  that  it  was 
Saint  Luke.  The  artist  was  a  prisoner,  and  a 
very  clever  prisoner  too.     He  painted  a  set  of 


^ 


SEARCHES  243 

full-length  pictures  of  the  twelve  apostles  for 
the  chapel,  while  another  artistic  prisoner  did  a 
large  canvas  of  Jerusalem  or  something  of  that 
sort,  for  an  altar-piece.  Painting  pictures  is 
work,  of  course,  but  I  don't  think  that  anybody 
would  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  is  the  sort  of 
hard  labour  contemplated  by  the  prison  regula- 
tions. I  never  knew  the  name  of  the  man  who 
did  the  altar-piece,  so  I  cannot  say  how  he  has 
gone  on  since,  but  the  man  who  did  the  apostles 
is  now  doing  five  years'  penal  servitude.  As 
far  as  I  could  judge,  he  was  not  only  an  able 
painter  but  a  man  of  commanding  ability  in 
other  directions,  and  it  is  quite  beyond  me  to 
find  any  excuse  whatever  for  such  a  man  em- 
bracing dishonesty  as  a  profession.  I  think 
that  there  must  be  some  sort  of  fascination  about 
crime  that  appeals  to  men  of  a  certain  tempera- 
ment, and  that  such  men  become  criminals  or  at 
any  rate  remain  criminals,  for  the  sake  of  the 
sport  they  get  by  setting  their  wits  against  the 
wits  of  the  police  and  because  they  enjoy  being 
hunted. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 
THE  COMPLETE  BURGLAR 

THERE  was  a  professional  burglar  em- 
ployed as  a  cleaner  on  my  landing  who 
used  to  boast  openly  that,  although  he  had  been 
getting  a  good  living  "  on  the  cross "  for  the 
past  fifteen  years,  he  was  only  then  serving  his 
second  term  of  imprisonment,  and  that  he  had 
not  been  properly  and  squarely  "  copped "  on 
either  of  those  occasions.  On  my  remarking  to 
him  one  day  that  he  appeared  to  have  been 
exceptionally  lucky,  as  there  were  not  many  who 
got  off  so  lightly,  he  remarked  that  there  were 
plenty  of  men  who  got  off  better,  and  that  he 
knew  one  who  had  been  living  by  burglary  for 
something  like  twenty  years  without  ever  having 
seen  the  inside  of  a  prison. 

"  How  do  you  account  for  that  ?"  I  asked. 

"  There's  only  one  way  of  accounting  for  it," 
he  replied,  "  and  that  is  that  he  works  by  himself, 
never  talks  about  business  matters  to  a  woman> 

244 


THE  COMPLETE   BURGLAR       245 

and  doesn't  drink.  If  I  had  always  been  as  care- 
ful, I  shouldn't  have  been  landed  either.  I  got 
my  first  dose  for  housebreaking — six  months  it 
was — through  a  woman  rounding  on  me;  and 
this  nine  months  that  I'm  doing  now  I  got 
through  being  taken  up  for  being  drunk  and 
disorderly,  and  having  housebreaking  tools  on 
me  when  I  was  searched  at  the  station." 

I  give  this  story  just  as  it  was  told  to  me,  and 
it  must  be  taken  with  reserve ;  but  I  really  do 
not  see  why  a  man  could  not  carry  on  business 
as  a  burglar  for  some  considerable  time  if  he 
worked  alone,  took  nothing  that  could  be 
positively  identified,  and  let  no  woman  into  his 
secrets.  All  the  same,  I  must  say  that  I  person- 
ally do  not  believe  for  a  moment  that  any 
burglar  lived  by  burglary  for  twenty  years  and 
went  scot  free. 


CHAPTER  XL 
THE    SUICIDE 

AN  event  happened  just  after  my  appoint- 
ment as  librarian  that  made  a  deep  im- 
pression on  me.  One  morning  on  unlocking 
there  seemed  to  be  something  uncanny  in  the 
air;  the  warders  seemed  to  open  the  cell  doors 
with  less  clatter  and  bang  than  usual,  the  cleaners 
were  more  subdued  than  ordinary,  and  a  general 
gloom  seemed  to  take  possession  of  everybody. 
Then,  at  chapel,  the  word  went  round  until 
every  one  there  knew  that  in  one  of  the  first  cells 
opened  in  "A"  Hall  that  morning  the  inmate 
was  discovered  hanging  to  the  iron  peg  that  was 
placed  in  the  wall  for  the  towel  to  hang  on.  He 
was  stiff  and  cold  when  discovered,  and  must  have 
been  dead  for  some  hours.  The  strange  thing 
about  this  suicide,  the  thing  that  impressed  me 
more  than  anything  else,  was  the  fact  that  the 
man  was  within  a  short  time  of  his  release,  and  I 
pondered  over  the  probable  motives  that  led 
him  to  the  act  of  self  destruction  until  I  began 

246 


THE  SUICIDE  247 

to  fear  that  I  was  getting  into  a  very  morbid 
frame  of  mind  myself 

It  was  book-changing  day  that  day,  and  we 
started  on  our  rounds  immediately  after  chapel. 
When  we  got  to  the  fatal  cell,  the  schoolmaster, 
either  because  he  had  not  been  told  or  through 
inadvertence,  pushed  his  key  in  the  lock  and 
threw  the  door  open  in  the  usual  way.  The 
corpse  was  there  lying  on  the  floor,  waiting  for 
the  coroner's  officer  to  see  it,  I  suppose,  and 
round  its  neck,  cutting  into  the  flesh,  was  the 
piece  of  tarred  twine  that  had  sufficed  to  strangle 
him.  On  the  table,  open  at  the  last  page  just  as 
he  had  finished  reading  it,  was  his  library  book, 
and  the  title  of  that  library  book  was  "To  the 
Bitter  End." 

We  shrank  back  horror-struck,  the  school- 
master quickly  closed  the  door,  and  we  passed 
on  ;  but  there  was  none  of  the  chaff  and  gossip 
that  made  book-changing  days  so  enjoyable  on 
that  day. 

Next  morning  I  was  at  exercise  when  a 
number  of  men  from  outside  passed  across  the 
exercise  ground  on  their  way  to  the  hall. 

"  Look  at  the  visiting  committee,"  said  the 

man  behind  me. 

"Visiting  committee   be   blowed,"  said    the 


248  A   HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

man  behind  him,  "  that's  no  visiting  committee. 
The  visiting  committee  are  gentlemen,  an'nothin' 
like  that  adjectived  lot.  They're  oney  jurymen  ; 
anybody  can  see  that." 

Coroners'  juries  were  often  seen  in  prison, 
for  even  if  a  prisoner  dies  from  natural  causes 
an  inquest  has  to  be  held  on  his  remains,  and 
to  my  eyes  the  gentlemen  composing  them 
looked  every  bit  as  respectable  as  the  visiting 
magistrates  ;  but  that  prisoner  saw  some  subtle 
difference  that  was  not  apparent  to  me. 

The  immediate  consequence  of  this  suicide 
was  that  all  the  iron  pins  were  removed  and 
replaced  by  wooden  ones  fixed  so  loosely  into 
the  wall  as  to  give  way  as  soon  as  any  weight 
was  hung  on  them;  but  I  think  that  there 
still  remained  plenty  of  ways  for  a  prisoner 
to  commit  self-destruction  if  determined  on  it. 

This  was  the  only  case  of  suicide  that 
occurred  in  the  prison,  as  far  as  I  know,  whilst 
I  was  there,  but  there  were  man}'  attempts.  A 
great  many  of  these  attempts,  perhaps  every  one 
of  them,  were  made  in  a  half-hearted  manner  and 
ought  not  to  be  taken  seriously,  so  it  is  not  fair 
to  assume  that  prison  discipline  is  conducive  to 
suicide.  Indeed,  if  the  motives  that  cover 
suicides    and    attempts    at    suicide    in    prisons 


THE  SUICIDE  249 

could  be  laid  bare,  it  would  be  found,  I  think, 
that  it  is  despair  of  the  future  more  than  dis- 
comfort in  the  present  that  is  the  moving  cause. 
To  any  man  who  is  not  a  professional  criminal 
and  has  no  intention  of  becoming  one,  the  future 
must  of  necessity  look  sombre,  and  constant 
brooding  on  it  may  well  beget  the  conviction 
that  life  is  not  worth  living;  but  I  have  no 
sympathy  with  any  man  who  harbours  the 
thought  of  escaping  the  greater  part  of  the 
penalty  of  his  misdeeds  in  this  way.  The  period 
of  imprisonment  is  only  the  overture  to  the 
punishment  a  convicted  man  who  does  not 
belong  to  the  regular  criminal  classes  has  to 
undergo,  and  I  believe  in  a  man  facing  the  whole 
of  the  music  his  actions  have  produced  and  not 
the  overture  only.  No  matter  what  social 
position  a  man  may  occupy  before  his  con- 
viction, he  will  surely  find  that  the  actual 
imprisonment  is  but  a  very  small  part  of  his 
punishment ;  but  the  man  of  good  social  position 
will  never  finish  his  punishment  as  long  as  he 
lives,  while  the  ex-prisoner  of  the  working  and 
lower-middle  classes  will  get  rid  of  the  prison 
stigma  in  the  course  of  years. 


CHAPTER  XLI 
THE    DOCTOR 

BEFORE  leaving  the  subject  of  suicide,  I 
may  say  that  though  the  idea  never 
entered  my  head,  the  doctors  at  Wormwood 
Scrubs,  like  the  medical  officer  at  Brixton, 
seemed  to  think  that  I  had  a  tendency  that  way. 
I  gathered  this  much  from  a  warder,  who  told 
me,  after  I  became  quite  an  old  hand,  that  when 
I  first  entered  the  prison  the  warders  had 
instructions  to  watch  me  very  closely,  and  that 
this  close  watch  on  my  actions  was  only  relaxed 
after  I  had  got  into  the  habit  of  seeing  the 
doctor  two  or  three  times  every  week. 

I  should  never  have  had  to  trouble  the  doctor 
after  the  first  time  of  seeing  him  had  it  not  been 
for  prison  red  tape;  for  I  enjoyed  very  good 
health  when  I  entered  the  prison,  and  got  into  a 
better  physical  state  with  every  day  I  remained 
there.  The  fact  was  that  in  my  early  days  in 
prison  I  found  that  my  digestive  apparatus  was 
not  strong  enough  to  cope  with  the  prison  food, 

250 


THE  DOCTOR  251 

which  is  the  experience  of  most  people  of 
middle  age  who  go  to  prison  for  the  first  time. 
I  accordingly  put  my  name  down  to  see  the 
doctor  with  the  intention  of  asking  him  to  give 
me  something  that  would  take  some  of  the 
weight  off  my  unfortunate  stomach.  In  due 
course  I  was  visited  by  the  assistant  medical 
officer,  who  does  most  of  the  work  in  the  prison 
itself,  the  medical  officer  finding  most  of  his 
work  in  the  hospital,  and  he  ordered  me  the 
treatment  usually  given  to  almost  every  prisoner 
when  he  applies  to  see  the  doctor  for  the  first 
time,  so  that  he  shall  not  be  unduly  encouraged 
to  see  him  a  second  time  I  suppose :  that  is  to 
say  that  I  got  a  dose  of  general  service  purgative 
mixture  and  "a  day's  rest  in  cell." 

The  man  who  invented  that  "  day's  rest  in 
cell "  was  a  bit  of  a  genius.  It  meant  that  the 
prisoner's  work  was  taken  away  from  him ;  he 
was  not  allowed  to  go  out  to  exercise,  and  not 
allowed  to  leave  his  cell  at  all.  As  all 
prisoners  who  apply  to  see  the  doctor  are  kept 
back  from  chapel,  the  unfortunate  prisoner  who 
got  "a  day's  rest  in  cell"  as  a  prescription 
was  in  for  a  day's  severe  punishment.  No  doubt 
the  prescription  was  intended  as  some  sort  of 
punishment    for    asking    to    see     the    doctor 


252  A   HOLIDAY    IN   GAOL 

unnecessarily,  but  this  was  never  admitted,  as  it 
would  look  so  inhuman  if  it  got  about  outside. 
The  assistant  medical  officer  had  so  much  to  do 
that  he  was  not  able  to  devote  much  time  to 
each  individual  prisoner,  so  that  it  very  often 
came  about  that  a  man  who  really  had  good  reason 
for  seeing  the  doctor,  and  did  not  need  purgative 
medicine,  got  treated  in  the  same  way  as  those 
whose  illness  only  existed  in  their  imagination. 

Whether  I  had  good  reason  for  seeing  the 
doctor  or  not,  as  seen  from  the  doctor's  point  of 
view,  I  do  not  know ;  but  I  thought  myself  that 
there  was  reason  enough  and  I  was  determined 
not  to  be  choked  off"  by  the  "  day's  rest  in  cell " 
dodge. 

I  accordingly  put  down  to  see  him  again  on 
the  following  day,  and  when  he  came  to  see  me 
I  told  him  good-humouredly  that  I  was  ready  to 
put  up  with  another  "  day's  rest  in  cell "  if  he 
thought  it  necessary  before  listening  to  what  I 
had  to  say ;  but  that  I  should  put  down  my 
name  to  see  him  again  on  the  day  after. 

"Well,  go  ahead,"  he  replied  smiling;  "but 
cut  it  as  short  as  you  can,  for  I  have  a  lot  of 
work  to  do  before  lunch-time." 

When  I  explained  that  I  couldn't  digest  the 
food  very  well,  he  said  that  he  didn't  expect  that 


THE   DOCTOR  253 

J  could  or  would  be  able  to  until  I  got  used  to 
it,  and  he  recommended  me  to  eat  as  little  as 
possible  for  the  time  being  in  preference  to 
taking  drugs. 

I  demurred  to  this,  and  he  then  ordered  me 
six  rhubarb  tabloids,  which  I  found  so  efficacious 
that  I  put  down  to  see  him  again  two  days 
afterwards  when  I  had  used  them  up,  and  asked 
him  to  give  me  a  week's  supply  all  in  a  lump. 

He  told  me,  in  reply  to  this  request,  that  the 
regulations  did  not  permit  him  to  give  me  more 
than  two  days'  supply  at  once,  and  that  if  I 
wanted  to  continue  using  the  tabloids  I  would 
have  to  see  him  every  other  day.  He  strongly 
advised  me  not  to  make  a  habit  of  taking  the 
tabloids ;  but  they  took  away  all  the  digestive 
discomfort  in  such  a  thorough  manner  that  I 
disregarded  his  advice  and  took  them  practically 
all  the  time  I  was  in  the  prison. 

The  procedure  I  had  to  go  through  to  get 
those  six  tabloids  twice  a  week  bordered  on  the 
ridiculous.  When  the  cell  door  was  opened  at 
six  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  warder  in  charge 
of  the  landing  walked  from  cell  to  cell  with  a 
slate  and  pencil  in  his  hands,  repeating  the 
formula:  "  Any  applications?"  This  is  the  time 
to  speak  if  one  wants  to  write  a  letter,  receive 


254  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

a  visit,  or  see  the  governor,  doctor,  or  chap- 
lain. "  Doctor,"  I  would  ejaculate  as  the  warder 
came  up. 

"  Righto,"  he  would  reply  as  he  entered  the 
number  of  my  cell  on  his  slate  under  the 
heading  "  Medical  officer." 

When  he  had  gone  round  the  whole  of  the 
cells  on  his  landing,  he  would  come  back  to  mine 
and  hang  a  card  on  the  door  with  the  word 
"  Surgeon  "  on  it,  which  was  an  intimation  that  I 
was  not  to  be  let  out  to  go  to  chapel,  or  to 
exercise  either  until  the  doctor  had  seen  me. 

About  ten  or  half-past  the  warder  in  charge 
of  the  ground  floor,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
go  round  with  the  doctor,  would  bang  open  my 
door  and  shout  "  Medical  officer."  When  this 
happened,  I  was  supposed  to  place  my  stool  in 
the  centre  of  the  cell  and  stand  "at  attention" 
against  the  wall  near  the  door.  In  another 
moment  the  assistant-surgeon,  carrying  a  memo- 
randum book  in  his  hand,  would  bounce  into  the 
cell  and  ask  in  a  curiously  high-pitched  voice, 
"What  is  your  name?"  He  never  failed  to  ask 
this  question  right  up  to  the  last  time  I  saw  him, 
which  was  on  the  day  before  my  discharge, 
though  after  the  first  few  times  he  must  have 
known  my  name  almost  as  well  as  I  knew  mj'self. 


THE   DOCTOR  255 

I  used  to  give  my  name  at  first,  but  1 
gradually  got  into  the  habit  of  leaving  the  name 
out  as  a  useless  formality,  and  replying  to  the 
question  by  merely  saying  "  Tabloids." 

Then  he  would  nod  his  head,  make  an  entry 
in  his  book,  and  depart,  the  tabloids  being 
brought  to  me  by  the  dispenser  about  dinner- 
time. 

At  intervals  he  would  remonstrate  with  me, 
and  his  remonstrances  were  always  in  the  same 
terms,  thus  :  "  You  know  that  this  tabloid  habit 
of  yours  is  all  fudge,  of  course.  Don't  you  think 
that  you  have  had  enough  of  them?" 

"  Possibly,"  I  would  reply,  "  but,  fudge  or 
not,  I  am  certain  that  they  do  me  good  and 
that  I  could  not  digest  the  food  without  them," 

"All  fancy,"  he  would  retort.  "  If  you  would 
only  make  up  your  mind  to  digest  the  food  you 
could  do  it  right  enough.  Now  just  try  this  faith 
cure  prescription,  will  you?" 

Just  by  way  of  humouring  him  I  would  do 
without  the  tabloids  for  a  few  days,  and  then 
the  same  routine  would  commence  over  again. 

There  was  a  young  doctor  from  somewhere 
outside  who  used  to  deputize  for  the  assistant- 
surgeon  when  he  was  away  or  doing  the  duty 
of   the    surgeon,   and    this   medico   was    vastly 


256  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

amused  at  my  perseverence  in  the  matter  of 
these  tabloids.  On  one  occasion  when  he  was 
so  acting,  I  had  no  tabloids  for  a  whole  week. 
One  day  as  I  was  going  from  cell  to  cell  exchang- 
ing the  prisoners'  library  books,  I  ran  up  against 
the  doctor  as  he  was  going  his  rounds.  When 
he  saw  me  he  started  back  as  if  astounded. 

"  What ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  are  you  still  alive  ? 
This  is  marvellous !  Why,  you  haven't  had  any 
tabloids  for  a  whole  week.  You  must  have  some 
at  once,  or  the  consequences  may  be  serious." 

And  he  ordered  me  six  without  consulting 
my  inclinations  at  all. 

When  he  was  doing  duty  on  another  occa- 
sion I  was  off  tabloids  again  and  he  met  me  on 
the  stairs. 

"  Don't  you  want  any  tabloids  ?"  he  asked. 

I  replied  to  the  effect  that  I  did  not. 

"Oh,  do  have  some,"  he  pleaded  with  mock 
earnestness,  "I  shall  be  so  unhappy  if  you 
don't." 

I  have  the  most  pleasant  recollections  of 
my  dealings  with  prison  doctors  all  round, 
even  if  they  did  regard  me  as  a  hopeless 
hypochondriac,  which  I  certainly  am  not;  but 
I  came  across  several  instances  of  other 
prisoners  having  differences  of  opinion  with  them. 


THE   DOCTOR  257 

One  of  them  was  a  next-door  neighbour  of 
mine.  He  had  been  in  prison  nearly  eighteen 
months  and  had  never  troubled  the  doctor  the 
whole  time.  Feeling  somewhat  run  down,  he 
asked  the  assistant-surgeon  one  day  to  give  him 
a  tonic.  The  doctor  nodded  his  head,  which  the 
man  took  as  a  sign  that  his  request  would  be 
granted  ;  but  when  the  dispenser  came  round,  the 
prisoner  found  that  he  had  only  been  ordered 
the  inevitable  white  mixture,  as  it  was  called. 

"I  don't  want  that,"  he  protested,  "my 
bowels  are  perfectly  regular." 

"You've  got  to  take  it,  or  be  reported," 
insisted  the  dispenser. 

The  man  declined  to  take  it,  and,  with  a  view 
to  hedging  against  the  report  that  he  thought 
was  coming,  he  made  a  complaint  next  day  to  the 
governor.  The  governor  directed  the  surgeon 
himself  to  examine  the  man,  and  the  surgeon 
took  him  into  the  hospital  for  the  purpose  of 
keeping  him  under  observation.  He  was  dis- 
charged from  hospital  in  three  days'  time 
without  the  tonic,  but  was  excused  the  white 
mixture. 

Another  prisoner  scored  right  royally  off  the 
doctors.  He  was  an  old  hand  who  knew  all 
there  was  to  know  about  prison  life  and 
s 


258  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

prisoners'  "  rights."  There  was  no  doubt  as  to 
his  being  in  ill-health  for  he  was  suffering  from 
tubercle  of  the  lung ;  but  tuberculous  prisoners 
are  not  taken  into  the  hospital  as  long  as  they 
are  able  to  move  about,  and  he  was  put  into  the 
prison  proper. 

This  man  told  the  assistant-surgeon  point 
blank  that  a  man  in  his  condition  ought  to  be 
taken  into  hospital  under  the  prison  regula- 
tions, but  the  assistant-surgeon  refused  to  see 
things  in  that  light. 

Then  the  prisoner  appealed  to  the  surgeon, 
who  also  disagreed  with  him. 

Next  he  tried  to  enlist  the  sympathy  of  the 
governor,  but  didn't  succeed. 

Finally  he  appealed  to  the  visiting  magistrates 
and  won  a  modified  victory,  for  it  was  ordered 
that  he  should  do  the  remainder  of  his  imprison- 
ment in  alternate  periods  of  six  weeks  in  the 
hospital,  and  six  weeks  in  the  prison  proper. 


CHAPTER  XLII 
THE   CANTANKEROUS 

THIS  man  was  a  most  cantankerous  fellow, 
and  got  his  own  way  in  almost  everything 
by  dint  of  perseverance.  He  fell  foul  of  the 
schoolmaster  because  he  could  not  get  just 
exactly  what  books  he  wanted  at  the  time  he 
wanted  them.  When  he  complained  to  the 
chaplain,  and  the  chaplain  decided  that  he  had 
nothing  to  complain  of,  he  sought  to  bring  the 
padre  to  his  senses  by  threatening  to  turn 
Roman  Catholic.  Even  this  dreadful  alternative 
didn't  make  the  chaplain  admit  that  the  school- 
master was  in  the  wrong,  so  the  prisoner  gave 
him  up  as  a  bad  job,  and  appealed  to  the 
governor. 

But  the  governor  was  even  more  unsympa- 
thetic than  the  chaplain  had  been,  and  the  man 
asked  that  all  his  books  might  be  taken  away, 
as  those  books  that  were  issued  to  him  were 
no  use,  and  if  he  could  not  get  some  that  were 
useful  to  him  he  would  have  none  at  all. 

259 


26o  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

The  governor  said  that  he  would  have  to 
keep  his  Bible,  his  prayer-book,  his  hymn-book, 
and  his  "  Narrow  Way,"  a  manual  of  devotion 
issued  to  all  prisoners ;  but  that  his  educational 
books  and  his  library  book  could  be  given  in  if 
he  did  not  want  them. 

We  accordingly  took  them  away  and  left  him 
without  any  reading  matter  at  all,  except  what  he 
could  find  in  his  devotional  books ;  but  that  didn't 
satisfy  him,  and  he  complained  to  the  inspector 
of  prisons  that  he  could  get  nothing  to  read. 

The  inspector  ordered  his  educational  and 
his  library  books  to  be  given  back  to  him  on  the 
old  conditions ;  but  the  man  still  sulked  and 
would  not  make  a  choice  from  a  number  of 
books  offered  to  him,  saying  that  none  of  them 
suited  him. 

Then  he  appealed  to  the  visiting  com- 
mittee and  the  committee  ordered  that  the 
schoolmaster  should  wait  on  him  with  the 
library  catalogue  and  give  him  any  book  he 
chose,  provided  that  it  was  in  the  library  avail- 
able for  issue,  and  that,  if  it  was  not  in  the 
library  at  the  time,  it  was  to  be  reserved  for  him 
when  it  came  in. 

That  is  the  way  they  pamper  cantankerous 
prisoners    in    our  gaols,   and   it   is    in   striking 


THE  CANTANKEROUS  261 

contrast  with   the   manner   in   which   poor  but 
honest  men  are  treated  in  our  workhouses. 

There  was  another  troublesome  prisoner  on 
my  landing  at  one  time,  whose  speciality  was 
making  complaints  about  his  food.  B3'  dint  of 
long  practice  or  a  natural  gift  he  could  estimate 
the  weight  of  anything  to  a  nicety,  and  for  some 
time  no  meal  hour  went  by  without  his  making 
a  formal  complaint  that  his  bread,  or  his  potatoes, 
or  something  else  was  short  of  quantity.  He 
was  never  caught  out  in  making  a  groundless 
complaint,  though  the  deficiency  was  never  any- 
thing that  mattered,  so  he  could  not  be  punished, 
and  the  only  thing  to  do  to  stop  him  was  to  have 
his  meals  specially  weighed  and  measured  before 
they  were  handed  in  to  him.  Then  he  started  on 
the  cooking,  and  gave  so  much  trouble  over  this, 
still  without  giving  the  warders  any  hold  over 
him,  that  at  last  his  meals  were  not  only  specially 
weighed,  but  they  were  specially  selected  so  as  to 
leave  him  no  possible  grounds  of  complaint,  and 
he  thus  became  the  best-fed  man  on  prison  diet. 

He  had  to  mind  his  p's  and  q's  all  the  time,  of 
course,  for  there  wasn't  a  warder  in  the  prison 
who  wouldn't  have  taken  any  opportunity  he 
gave  for  a  report ;  but  he  was  a  wily  character, 
and  they  never  got  a  fair  chance  at  him. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 
CHRISTMAS   DAY 

I  ONLY  spent  one  Christmas  Day  in  gaol,  but 
it  was  the  most  memorable  Christmas  Day 
I  ever  spent  in  my  life,  though  I  have  passed 
that  season  in  many  queer  circumstances.  On 
Christmas  Eve  I  asked  an  old  hand  who  was  a 
cleaner  on  my  landing  if  any  difference  was  made 
in  the  food  on  Christmas  Day. 

"  Do  they  make  any  difference  at  Christmas  ?  " 
he  repeated  in  a  surprised  tone.  "  Why,  of  course 
they  do.  The}^  gives  you  roast  beef,  plum  duff, 
an'  a  pint  o'  beer  for  dinner,  an'  haddicks  for 
tea." 

That  night  as  I  lay  tucked  up  in  my  com- 
fortable prison  bed,  I  dreamed  of  roast  beef,  plum 
pudding,  and — shall  I  admit  it? — particularly  of 
that  pint  of  beer. 

There  was  no  joyous  ring  in  the  prison  bell, 
when,  at  seven  o'clock  on  Christmas  morning,  it 
clanged  out  its  summons  to  its  slaves  to  leave 
their    beds ;    nor    was     there     any    Christmas 

262 


CHRISTMAS   DAY  263 

kindness  in  the  warder's  tones  when,  a  few 
minutes  afterwards,  my  cell  door  was  banged 
open  and  the  command,  "Slops  out,  and  shut 
your  door"  was  hurled  at  me. 

Immediately  after  the  last  of  the  eighty  odd 
cell  doors  on  the  landing  had  been  opened  for 
the  slops  to  be  put  out,  the  clanking  of  cans  that 
always  heralds  the  approach  of  breakfast  was 
heard,  and  although  the  cleaner  had  not  told  me 
that  there  would  be  any  change  in  the  menu  of 
the  morning  meal,  I  hoped  for  the  best,  and 
weighed  up  the  chances  for  ham  and  eggs,  plain 
bacon,  or  bloaters ;  but  though  I  put  my  nose  to 
the  crack  at  the  bottom  of  the  door,  I  could 
detect  no  unusual  odour. 

Alas!  the  prison  commissioners  had  not 
carried  their  liberality  to  the  extent  of  providing 
a  Christmas  breakfast,  and  the  only  difference 
between  the  pint  of  porridge  on  this  morning  as 
compared  with  other  mornings  was  that  it  was 
only  half-cooked  and  quite  uneatable.  I  consoled 
myself  with  the  reflection  that  it  did  not  really 
matter,  as  I  was  down  to  receive  Holy  Com- 
munion, and  sufficient  time  was  not  allowed  to 
eat  a  breakfast  even  if  I  had  one,  as  five  minutes 
after  the  food  was  put  in  my  cell  I  was  called 
out  of  it  to  go  to  chapel. 


264  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

There  were  only  three  communicants  in  my 
hall  out  of  its  three  hundred  odd  inhabitants,  and 
not  many  more  from  the  other  "  hard  case  "  halls, 
as  there  were  only  sixty-nine  communicants  in 
the  prison  altogether,  and  fifty  odd  of  these  came 
from  "B"  Hall,  where  the  "Debtors,"  the  "Second 
Division  "  men,  and  the  "  Star  "  class  were  located. 
In  addition  to  these  sixty-nine  prisoners 
there  partook  of  the  celebration  one  warder,  the 
assistant  medical  officer,  the  two  daughters  of 
the  chaplain,  and  three  other  ladies,  who  by  their 
dress  seemed  to  be  warders'  wives. 

Although  the  communion  service  was  short- 
ened by  being  commenced  at  the  exhortation,  it 
lasted  until  it  was  time  for  the  regular  chapel 
service  to  commence,  so  we  prisoners  remained 
in  the  chapel  instead  of  being  taken  back  to  our 
cells. 

There  was  a  distinct  Christmassy  flavour 
about  the  ensuing  service,  the  chapel  being 
tastefully  decorated  and  the  hymns  being  all 
well-known  carols.  When  sermon-time  came 
the  dear  old  chaplain,  than  whom  I  am  convinced 
no  better  or  more  earnest  member  of  his  cloth 
exists,  sympathetically  said  that  it  would  be  a 
mockery  to  wish  us  a  Merry  Christmas,  but  that 
as  far  as  in  him  lay  he  would  try  and  carry  our 


CHRISTMAS  DAY  265 

minds  away  from  our  painful  surroundings 
during  the  time  we  were  with  him,  and,  instead 
of  giving  us  a  sermon,  he  would  sing  to  us.  He 
could  sing,  too,  and  his  performance  was  followed 
by  hearty  applause  in  the  shape  of  a  shuffling  of 
feet  that  was  opposed  to  all  official  ideas  of 
decorum.  The  warders  were  immediately  on 
the  alert  to  catch  the  offenders ;  but  every  face 
wore  an  intensely  devotional  look  and  was 
turned  straight  to  the  front  so  that  they  did  not 
bag  any  one ;  perhaps,  indeed,  they  didn't 
particularly  wish  to. 

"That  noise  is  very  unseemly,"  said  the 
chaplain  deprecatingly,  holding  up  his  hand.  "If 
I  am  to  sing  to  3'ou  again  it  must  be  on  the 
distinct  understanding  that  what  you  no  doubt 
mean  as  kindly  encouragement  only  distresses 
me.     Please  do  not  do  so  again." 

Then  he  sang  again,  and  this  time  when  he 
had  finished  not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  left 
when  his  voice  died  away.  I  do  not  think  that 
there  was  a  single  man  in  that  chapel  who  had 
not  a  distinct  feeling  of  respect  for  the  chaplain, 
and  there  were  many  of  us,  I  am  sure,  who  re- 
garded him  with  something  approaching  to  real 
affection.  If  every  prison  chaplain  were  built 
upon  the  same   model  men   might  be  reformed 


266  A   HOLIDAY  IN   GAOL 

in  prison,  for  more  than  one  old  offender  has 
confided  to  me  that  what  he  dreaded  most  on 
returning  to  prison  was  to  see  the  distress  of 
this  good  old  man.  Speaking  for  myself,  I  can 
say  truthfully  that  the  fear  of  meeting  him  again 
as  prisoner  would  be  likely  to  keep  me  out  of 
prison  if  nothing  else  would. 

We  were  marched  straight  from  the  chapel 
to  the  exercise  yard,  but  the  usual  hour  in  the 
open  air  was  abridged  to  a  quarter  or  at  most 
twenty  minutes.  Then  we  were  rushed  back 
to  our  cells  and  left  to  fill  in  the  hour  that  yet 
remained  till  dinner-time  as  best  we  could.  I 
had  nothing  light  to  read,  my  library  book 
having  been  finished  the  day  before,  and  the 
thoughts  of  the  dinner  in  store  made  me  too 
restless  to  concentrate  my  mind  on  study. 

At  last  the  welcome  shout  "  Cleaners  "  came 
up  from  below,  being  the  signal  for  the  orderlies 
to  parade  downstairs  to  be  marched  to  the 
cookhouse  for  the  dinners,  and  ten  minutes 
afterwards  the  sound  of  the  dinner-trays  being 
carried  upstairs  announced  that  there  was  not 
much  longer  to  wait. 

Presently  the  opening  and  shutting  of  the 
cell  doors  gave  the  information  that  the  distri- 
bution  had  begun,  but  it  seemed  to  be  an  age 


CHRISTMAS   DAY  267 

before  the  sound  got  to  be  so  near  as  to  indicate 
that  the  distributors  were  approaching  my  end. 
At  last,  by  peering  through  the  pinhole  in  the 
lid  of  the  observation  window  of  my  cell  I  could 
see  that  they  were  right  opposite  to  me,  and 
that  there  w^ere  thus  only  eleven  more  cells  for 
them  to  serve  before  my  turn  came. 

What  a  time  they  were  to  be  sure !  It 
seemed  as  if  they  were  taking  three  times  as 
long  to  distribute  the  dinners  to-day ;  but  then 
that  was  to  be  expected,  I  thought,  because  of 
the  extra  quantity  to  be  handed  in. 

After  an  unconscionable  time  there  was  the 
welcome  sound  of  a  basket  creaking  as  it  was 
pressed  against  the  wall,  and  my  door  being 
thrown  open,  a  warder  took  a  six-ounce  loaf 
from  the  basket  and,  throwing  it  on  the  table, 
moved  on  to  the  next  cell,  leaving  my  door  open. 
Two  prisoners  carrying  a  great  wooden  tray 
now  came  along,  followed  by  a  warder  who, 
when  he  reached  my  door,  took  one  of  the 
dinner-tins  off  the  tray  and  banged  it  on  my 
table.  So  far  there  was  nothing  out  of  the 
ordinary  course,  but  the  warder  made  a  remark 
as  he  put  the  tin  in  that  was  a  great  departure 
from  rule. 

"  Roast  beef  course,"  he  said  jocosely  :  "  beer 


268  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

and  duff  to  follow."     Then  he  banged  the  door 
to,  and  left  me  to  my  long-anticipated  enjoyment 

The  top  tin  only  disclosed  potatoes  in  their 
jackets  as  usual,  and  I  felt  somewhat  disappointed 
that  a  half-formed  hope  that  we  would  have  baked 
potatoes  was  not  realized. 

I  took  the  top  tin  out  of  the  other  with  the 
keenest  anticipation  and  recoiled  under  the 
greatest  disappointment  I  remember :  the  tin 
only  contained  the  usual  dinner  set  down  in  the 
dietary  for  that  day  of  the  week,  and  the  cleaner 
stood  revealed  as  a  heartless,  cold-blooded  liar, 
who  had  practised  upon  my  credulit}'  and  let 
the  warder  into  the  secret  of  the  cruel  joke. 

Truth  compels  me  to  say  that  my  chagrin 
was  so  bitter  as  to  cause  me  actually  to  sink 
down  on  my  stool,  hide  my  head  on  my  arms 
and  blubber.  My  hunger,  however,  soon  re- 
minded me  that  there  was  something  to  eat,  if 
not  what  I  had  expected,  and  I  dolefully,  but  at 
the  same  time  with  relish,  gobbled  up  the  miser- 
able dinner  even  to  the  skins  of  the  potatoes. 

Now  ensued  another  wretched  hour  which  I 
spent  ranging  round  my  cell  like  a  tiger  in  a 
cage.  At  half-past  one  the  prison  bell  rang 
again,  and  we  were  marshalled  into  chapel  again 
for  the  evening  service. 


CHRISTMAS    DAY  269 

On  the  way  there  the  diabolical  cleaner 
whispered  to  me,  "  'Ow  did  ye  like  your 
dinner?  They  do  ye  well  in  stir  on  Christmas 
Day,  don't  they  ?  " 

When  we  got  into  chapel,  he  took  advantage 
of  one  of  the  warders  not  having  seated  himself 
to  ask  genially  "  if  I  had  ever  been  to  evening 
service  before  the  mornin'  pubs  were  shut 
afore  ?  "  but  I  only  gave  him  the  frozen  face. 

The  afternoon,  or  evening,  service  consisted 
of  a  service  of  song  in  which  the  chaplain  took 
the  solo  parts  and  the  choir  did  the  rest,  the 
congregation  having  nothing  to  do  but  listen. 
It  was  over  all  too  soon,  and  then  back  again  we 
went  to  our  dreary  cells  to  tramp  aimlessly 
round  until  supper-time,  which  on  this  day  was 
at  half-past  three. 

Having  disposed  of  the  pint  of  greasy  cocoa 
and  the  half-pound  loaf  that  formed  the  supper,  I 
made  my  bed  down,  and  got  into  it  at  about  four 
o'clock  to  sleep  off  the  remainder  of  the  most 
wretched  and  dispiriting  Christmas  Day  I  ever 
spent. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 
NEARING  THE  END 

WHEN  I  was  within  about  six  weeks  of 
my  discharge,  a  warder  came  to  fetch 
me  one  morning,  and  took  me  over  to  the 
waiting-room  adjoining  the  room  where  the 
visiting  magistrates  met.  He  there  took  my 
finger-prints  again ;  but  there  was  not  the 
scrupulous  care  exercised  over  the  operation 
that  was  the  case  at  Brixton,  though  I  suppose 
the  result  was  good  enough  for  all  practical 
purposes. 

Then,  a  week  after  this,  I  was  taken  over  to 
the  reception-ward  in  company  with  a  fairly 
numerous  lot  of  other  prisoners,  and  our  own 
clothes  were  handed  out  to  us. 

Mine  were  just  bundled  up  as  they  were 
when  I  entered  the  prison,  and  when,  in  obedience 
to  orders,  I  had  put  them  on,  I  was  rather  glad 
that  there  was  no  looking-glass  handy,  for  I  must 
have  looked  a  startling  object,  and  if  I  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of   myself  it  would   probably   have 

270 


NEARING  THE   END  271 

destroyed  what  rags  of  self-esteem  I  had  left. 
Then  we  went  one  by  one  into  a  room  where 
there  was  a  man  with  a  camera,  who  took  two 
photographs  of  each  man — one  full  face  with 
the  hands  crossed  on  the  breast,  and  the  other 
side  face. 

A  few  days  after  this  my  number  was  called 
out  whilst  I  was  at  exercise  by  a  principal 
warder  who  told  me  to  "  Lead  on." 

"  What's  the  matter  now,  sir  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  nothing  much  "  was  the  reply.  "  You'll 
know  all  about  it  directly." 

It  was  nothing  much,  but  I  couldn't  make  out 
the  meaning  of  it  at  all.  I  was  ushered  into  the 
presence  of  the  deputy  governor  who  merely 
looked  at  me  and  said,  "  That  will  do." 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  I  asked  an  old 
hand,  who  explained  the  mystery  by  telling  me 
that  the  "deputy"  was  simply  comparing  my 
face  with  the  photographs — a  thing  he  was 
obliged  to  do  by  the  regulations.  I  am  rather  at 
a  loss  to  estimate  the  value  of  that  photograph 
to  the  authorities,  because  I  am  certain  that 
between  myself  as  I  appeared  when  it  was 
taken  and  my  appearance  after  I  had  been  dis- 
charged from  prison  for  a  month  or  two  there 
was  no  sort  of  resemblance  whatever. 


272  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

I  was  entitled  to  a  visit  about  a  fortnight 
before  my  discharge  was  due,  and  I  gave  the 
friend  who  came  to  see  me  instructions  to  send 
me  in  a  complete  rig-out,  so  that  I  might  emerge 
presenting  some  sort  of  respectable  appearance. 
A  day  or  two  after  this  I  happened  to  mention 
what  I  had  done  to  a  warder,  who  informed  me 
that  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  get  special 
permission  from  the  governor  or  the  things 
would  not  be  received,  or,  if  received,  would  not 
be  given  to  me  until  I  was  actually  going  out  of 
the  prison  gate,  so  that  I  would  have  to  go  out 
in  the  disreputable  outfit  I  had  had  my  photo 
taken  in. 

I  accordingly  put  my  name  down  to  see  the 
governor  next  morning,  and  he  readily  gave  me 
the  required  permission. 

"  I  cannot  give  you  permission  to  write  a 
special  letter  telling  your  friends  to  send  them 
though,"  he  said,  "so  that  if  you  are  not  entitled 
to  write  a  letter,  I  am  afraid  that  you  will  have 
to  do  without  the  clothes." 

"  What  do  you  want  clothes  sent  in  for 
anyway  ?  "  interrupted  the  chief  warder.  "  Your 
own  clothes  can  be  brushed  and  pressed  for 
you." 

I  said  that  I  was  afraid  that  would  not  do, 


NEARING  THE   END  273 

and  that  I  had  already  asked  a  friend  to  send 
the  clothes  in. 

"Well,  you  had  no  business  to,"  snapped  the 
chief  warder,  "  and  it  would  serve  you  right  if 
the  clothes  were  not  taken  in." 

"  I  am  entirely  in  your  hands,  sir, "  I  said, 
ignoring  the  chief  warder  and  turning  to  the 
governor.  "  I  really  took  your  permission  for 
granted." 

"That's  all  right,"  replied  the  governor  good- 
humouredly.  "  I'll  mark  the  application  as 
granted,  and  3'ou  shall  have  your  clothes  in  time 
to  put  them  on  before  you  go  out." 

At  last  the  day  before  my  discharge  came. 
My  sentence  required  that  I  should  serve  the 
following  day  in  prison  ;  but  prisoners  are  always 
discharged  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  of 
the  last  day  of  their  imprisonment,  and  I  would 
have  my  breakfast  on  the  following  morning  in 
freedom. 

I  had  a  farewell  interview  with  the  governor, 
who  was  kind  enough  to  tell  me  that  I  had  been 
a  model  prisoner;  then,  in  the  dinner-time,  the 
chaplain  came  to  my  cell  and  asked  me  if  he 
could  assist  me  in  any  way.  I  replied  to  the 
effect  that  I  did  not  require  any  assistance,  but 
that    I    believed   that   he   had   already  assisted 


274  A  HOLIDAY   IN    GAOL 

mc    more   than   either   he   or    I    knew   at    that 
moment,  and  that  I  was  deeply  grateful  to  him. 

"  Well,  good-bye  and  good  luck  to  you,"  he 
said,  holding  out  his  hand.  "  I  have  the  feeling 
that  this  imprisonment  is  only  an  incident  with 
you  and  that  you  will  do  well  in  spite  of  it.  I 
know  that  I  shan't  see  you  any  more — in  prison 
at  any  rate." 

"  I  don't  think  you  will,"  I  replied.  "  My 
stay  here  has  done  me  an  immense  amount  of 
good,  and  on  the  whole  I  have  enjoyed  it ;  but  I 
am  quite  satisfied  with  the  experience,  and  do 
not  propose  to  repeat  it." 

I  had  also  to  see  the  doctor,  who  asked  me  if 
I  was  all  right,  and  smilingly  counselled  me  to 
drop  the  taking  of  tabloids  or  an}'  other  kind  of 
drugs  because  I  did  not  need  anything  of  the 
sort, 

"  I  quite  agree,"  I  said ;  "  but  I  shall  be  in  a 
position  to  choose  my  own  food  from  to-morrow 
you  know." 

There  still  remained  the  two  schoolmasters, 
who  had  been  extraordinarily  kind  to  me,  and 
one  or  two  warders  to  take  leave  of;  but  I  had 
no  opportunity  of  doing  so  because,  owing  to  the 
crowded  state  of  the  prison,  and  the  fact  of  the 
Old    Bailey   Sessions    being    on,    my  cell   was 


NEARING  THE   END  275 

required  for  fresh  guests  expected  that  evening  ; 
so  I  was  bundled  out  of  it  at  a  moment's  notice 
in  the  afternoon,  and  put  with  a  dozen  other 
men  of  all  sorts  who  were  to  go  out  also  next 
morning  to  pass  my  last  night  in  the  storeroom 
of  another  hall,  where  we  were  provided  with 
mattresses  and  told  to  camp  down  on  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  XLV 
RELEASE 

THERE  wasn't  much  sleep  in  that  storeroom 
that  night,  and  I  learnt  enough  from  the 
conversation  of  the  men  who  shared  the  room 
with  me  to  make  a  very  interesting  book.  It 
was  very  instructive  as  to  the  reforming  power 
of  prisons  to  listen  to  these  men  who  were  going 
out  into  the  world  again,  for  there  was  not 
one  of  them  who  spoke  of  getting  work.  Work 
did  not  appear  to  have  any  place  in  their 
thoughts  at  all,  and  the  word  was  never 
mentioned,  only  in  the  criminal  sense  of  stealing 
or  swindling. 

Morning  came  at  last,  and  as  soon  as  the 
warders  entered  the  hall  to  commence  the  day's 
work  we  were  let  out  and  taken  over  to  the 
reception-ward,  where  our  clothes  were  given  to 
us ;  we  were  searched  for  the  last  time,  and  then, 
when  we  were  dressed,  taken  over  to  the  prison 
office,  where  1  was  given  my  gratuity  of  ten 
shillings,    the    highest  amount    a  hard    labour 

276 


RELEASE  277 

prisoner  can  earn,  and  was  also  handed  a  letter 
that  had  been  written  to  me  by  a  friend  on  the 
day  I  was  convicted  and  withheld  from  me  until 
now.  That  letter  was  an  expression  of  belief 
in  me  from  a  person  whose  good  opinion  I 
valued  above  the  opinion  of  everybody,  and  yet 
it  had  been  cruelly  kept  from  me  all  the  time  I 
had  been  in  the  prison.  Surely  it  might  have 
been  given  to  me  as  soon  as  I  was  entitled 
under  the  regulations  to  receive  a  letter. 

"Where  are  your  old  clothes?"  asked  the 
chief  warder. 

I  pointed  to  the  prisoner  to  whom  I  had 
given  them,  who  looked  so  very  disreputable  in 
them  that  1  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  I 
might  have  had  to  wear  them  myself 

The  chief  warder  grunted  something  about 
my  not  being  supposed  to  give  my  own  clothes 
away  without  permission,  and  I  took  him  up 
rather  sharply. 

"You  are  not  discharged  yet,"  he  said 
grimly. 

"No,  but  1  shall  be  in  a  minute,"  I  replied, 
"  and  I  have  so  much  to  thank  you  for  that  I  do 
not  wish  to  part  bad  friends." 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said  in  a  mollified  tone. 
"Good-bye,  and  good  luck  to  you." 


2/8  A   HOLIDAY   IN   GAOL 

Then  we  filed  off  to  the  front  gate  in  company 
with  a  warder  in  plain  clothes,  who  was  to  see 
us  to  the  railway  station  and  take  our  tickets 
for  us. 

The  gate-keeper  let  us  out  of  the  prison 
wicket  one  by  one,  first  asking  our  names  and 
comparing  them  with  a  list  he  had  in  his  hand, 
and  we  found  ourselves  in  the  private  road 
leading  from  the  prison,  free  men  once  more. 

I  walked  down  to  the  station  with  the  warder, 
the  other  men  straggling  along  in  front. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  us?"  asked  the 
officer. 

"  I  think  that  you  are  a  jolly  decent  lot  of 
fellows,"  I  replied  heartily,  "and  the  marvel  to 
me  is  how  it  happens  that  such  a  smart, 
intelligent  lot  of  chaps  can  be  got  to  do  the 
work  you  have  to  get  through  for  the  miserable 
pay  they  give  you." 

And  that  is  my  feeling  at  the  present  moment. 
If  there  are  any  persons  in  our  prisons  who  do 
work  that  can  honestly  be  described  as  "  hard 
labour"  it  is  the  warders,  and  not  the  men  who 
are  sentenced  to  it. 


PRINTED   BV 

WILLIAM  CLOWES  AND  SONS,  LIMITED, 

LONDON  AND  BECCLES. 


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